


Core of My Soul

by mobile_mom



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Childhood Trauma, Domestic Gallavich, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sickness, parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-05-27 12:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mobile_mom/pseuds/mobile_mom
Summary: Season 6 & 7 never happened and Mickey wasn’t in jail.Ian, Mickey and Yevgeny (8yo) are living together with Mandy and her daughter Katy (4).Svetlana lives in a little apartment nearby. She sees Yevgeny and shows up at school or for the pediatrician and stuff like that.Ian is still working as a dancer at the Fairytale. Mickey works as a mechanic. Mandy tries to go (back) to work working as a cashier.Ian is bipolar.Okay, I just realized that's actually just the setting. What will happen in the fic is that:We'll see Ian who takes his meds and tries to do his best, although he sometimes still feels like a burden.I'll provide storylines for Mandy and Svetlana, because I love strong women and still see Svet as S5 Svet.Through the kids you'll get some domestic Gallavich. There will be cuteness, fun and laughter but I am an angsty bitch and belive me, you'll get lots of it. Why? Well because Mickey will be confronted with his demons. They wil hunt him. And he'll suffer, just like Ian and all of us.Happy ending? Won't tell you already, you have to subscribe to find that out and get all the smut I of course didn't forget about ;o)





	1. The picture

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is the first chapter of a multi chapter fic I have been working on since quite a while now. Since I am now in the middle of it with writing but somehow struck, I thought about publishing the first hint of it to get a feeling for it if people might like it at all.  
> Every single comment is highly appreciated!
> 
> English is not my mother language but I do have amazing beta readers. Any mistake still in there is definitely to be blamed on me.
> 
> Get you in the mood for this chapter with that song if you like:  
> [Tom Odell - Grow old with me](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5rgHYP0dD_4)

“Fuck this shit!”  


Mickey cursed while trying to shake the sticky Lego brick off his bare foot. He tried to make his way through Yevgeny’s room to open the blinds but the room of their now 8 year old son looked as if something had just exploded in it.  
Legos were scattered all over the floor, sometimes covered by shirts or single socks. The mess was giving Mickey a headache on his usual round through the house after Yevgeny left for school and Mandy for the early morning shift at the grocery store.  


Standing in the mess Mickey wondered how he had ended up here. That he finally was able to escape the Milkovich House of Horror to live together with the love of his life and raise his son together with him and Svetlana. Thinking back through the years, they had overcome so much: Overwhelming poverty, no knowledge on raising babies, getting Yev through kindergarten. They had made it through it all and Yev was now entering his third year of school. Damn all those old ladies were right, always babbling on about how children “grow up so fast”. Mickey smiled to himself, thinking they had been completely right.  


I hadn’t been easy though, although Ian had grown up around many siblings, neither of them knew much about babies. It took a while before Ian stopped walking on eggshells regarding Yevgeny and a solid two years before Svetlana started to completely trust him again around the baby. Well, she probably did earlier Mickey suspected, but she had him fidgeting before letting Ian know she had his back, but then – and Mickey’s smile remembering the beautiful little moments he witnessed them sharing went wide – it was as if Ian had become this delicate red carnation blooming with all the love, and dedication he was now allowed and able to give Yevgeny. With every week and month they grew closer, and the carnation grew too. Finally, when they all went to Yev’s first day of school Mickey was sure the carnation was gone and somehow changed into a proud and self-confident beautiful, red rose.  


The thorns were there too. Spines that did not allow the most important people in his life to do all they wanted to do for Ian. Thornes of three dreadful waves of depression had spiked their bliss so far. But neither Mickey, nor Svetlana or Mandy were willing to stop watering their beautiful rose until he was better again.  


Mandy, as long as he could remember, she had always been his rock in the surf. Outsiders may have thought that it was always Mickey who protected Mandy, during their childhood and now giving her and her daughter a shelter but Mickey wouldn’t have made it into his teenage years without her. Being true Milkoviches they still had things that were never talked about but their bond was so strong that they rarely needed a lot of words between them anyway. Okay, everyone else thought it was ridiculous that neither Mickey nor Ian knew who the father of Mandy’s child was and although they both did not believe her that she simply didn’t know it, the three loved her daughter unconditionally. Katy was four years old now and lit up every single day in their unique household.  


Mickey made a note to himself to have some serious talk to do with Yev and Ian. Yeah, this tohobohu was probably owed to Ian for the most of it Mickey thought shaking his head smirking. That mess was shit but hell could Ian get carried away when he was sitting on the floor building things with Yev or making up the most beautiful fairy tales for Katy, who …  


”Meekye?”  


He shook his head looking down at a tiny soft hand pulling at his legs.  


“Hey, good morning, beauty”  
He said bowing down, one pair of pale blue eyes exchanging deep lovingly looks with another one just as icy blue as his, before he gently planted a tender kiss on her forehead.  


It only took a glance at his niece and all the emotions that were inevitably linked to his sorrowful childhood washed over him like a wave. He blamed it on her striking resemblance to Mandy, thinking that whenever he looked at her daughter, all the memories that had shaped their childhood sprang instantly to mind.  


“Let me just find my way through this mess and we’ll have breakfast”.  
He said, fumbling at the blinds to open them and the window to get some fresh air in.  


“’Kay”

Katy answered distracted while enjoying not being shoved out of Yevgeny’s room and curiously starting to dig through some piles of papers under his desk. 

“Can I have this?” 

“Hm?” 

“Yev threw it away, so he doesn’t need it any more, right? Can I keep it?” and she showed him a colorful picture, obviously drawn by Yevgeny. 

Looking at it more closely he instantly loved it: it showed him, Ian, Yev, Mandy, Katy and even Sevatlana which was nice. But what gave him a warm glow in his chest was how he was connected with Ian by holding a hand and even a heart circling the two of them together with Yevgeny. But then he started to frown though not only about the fact that the picture had been somewhere in the wastepaper basket but also because he was realizing it triggered something in him he only distantly noticed. Well, whatever, maybe he just wasn’t as confident with his son being that sappy as he thought, Mickey wondered when Katy interrupted his thoughts: 

“Yeah I know, Mommy and I should have been in that heart, too. Right?”  
“ Boys” she went on, dramatically rolling her eyes “they always behave as if they don’t like us” and he couldn’t help but smirk about her pouty tone. 

“Well, I guess you can have it but better check with Yev once he gets home, ok? Pancakes now?”

And both of them shoved their very own grudges aside, happily going down the stairs to the kitchen which was bathed in the golden morning sunlight. 

The kitchen was small and it wouldn’t make any sense to search for more than two matching cups, but they owed an impressive collection of advertising cups, sporting all sorts of bright slogans. Their coffee machine was still old school, no milk frother or any other hipster accessory. But it worked, it was theirs, didn’t fall off any truck and honestly, who really ever needed anything else than the straight dark black liquid whose smell instantly made you feel at home rather than the coffee shop shit that came with fancy names that only gave you a headache?

******************  
“Damn boy!” Mickey exclaimed.

Just as their tiny kitchen slowly filled with the sweet smell of banana pancake dough hardening in the pan it hit Mickey hard. Katy watched him attentively as he took a step towards the fridge, leaving little drops of paste sliding down the pancake batter marking his way on the kitchen floor. When he loosened the picture off the fridge and slammed it harder on the table than he intended Katy gave him a scared look with her big innocent eyes and Mickey was instantly sorry. But before he could start to apologize the scent of burned dough rose to his nose. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Mickey cursed, when Ian entered the room an amused

“Yeah, good morning to you, too!” on his lips. 

Running one hand through his morning disheveled hair Ian looked puzzled and at the same time delighted at his beloved man, who panic-like tried to save what was still to be saved from the pancakes. Passing Katy Ian only gave her a short hug, making sure to reach out and try to calm down Mickey as fast as he could. 

“Hey Chef” he seductively whispered into Mickey’s ear, pressing tightly against him from the back. Planting a soft kiss on Mickey’s neck he reached out, making sure his fingers embraced Mickey’s hand, leading the pan to a nearby coaster.  
He did sense Mickey being tense when he walked towards the kitchen island but the red watery eyes looking at him in despair when Mickey finally turned towards him, took Ian by surprise. 

“Babe, what…?” 

“Upstairs!” Mickey stated hastily. 

Getting pulled behind Mickey Ian just managed to put the stove out saying to Katy  
“Go watch TV, we eat in ten minutes” which only earned him a very Mandy- look alike eye-roll and a cheeky “as if”. Every other day he would have been amused by it but not today. Not when Mickey was so obviously bothered by something without him even having the slightest clue what that could be.  
When Ian stepped into their bedroom he realized how small and fragile Mickey appeared on their king size bed. A bed they both had wanted from the first moment they were even just thinking of moving into their own house and for which they had accepted having to camp on their old mattresses on the bare ground for months before they could finally afford to buy it. But as comfortable as it was, right now Mickey only looked completely exhausted and was pressing a painted picture closely to his chest. Ian walked cautiously towards the bed, kneed down on one leg, cupping Mick’s cheeks with both his hands and looked him deep in his flickering eyes. Knowing what always worked to calm Mickey down, he leaned their foreheads gently together while his thumbs were gently caressing Mickey’s cheeks. It scared Ian as he realized Mickey was slightly trembling and for a long moment they just sat there, inhaling and exhaling deeply, trying to get into the same rhythm with the other one. When Ian carefully tried to get hold of the picture in Mickey’s hands, Mickey looked at him with so much hurt, it made his own lip tremble, still not aware of what all of this was about. 

“I am so sick and tired of it, Ian. I don’t want this anymore!” Mickey finally nearly inaudibly whispered.

“Jesus, Mickey. What? Please, what…what are we talking about here?”

As Mickey let loose and sat back a bit Ian was nearly relieved that the sadness in Mick’s voice seemed to change to anger, when he still trembling spat out:  
“This! This piece of crap!” Pointing out at the picture he demanded: “You know what this is?” but before an absolutely confused Ian could even start answering, Mickey jumped from the bed and stormed past him to Katy’s room returning only seconds later with another work of art. And as Ian still didn’t get it while Mickey frantically waved the two pictures back and forth in front of his face Mickey resigned and groaned: “Fuck Ian. Yev did a polished version of something he actually drew. Like a pc version he could show to the teacher.  
“And hey!” he sarcastically added “It worked! Probably because he even drew a fucking eagle on it!” and with big eye rolls he dropped dramatically back to the bed, still to incensed to realize how that last comment had Ian torn out of his agony when the memory hit him hard.  
The remembrance made him virtually squirm since he remembered too well the sweet moment he shared with Yev one afternoon, sitting at the kitchen table filled with all the pride a dad can feel while watching his son drawing a family picture: there was Mickey with his black hair, surrounded by Svetlana – featuring a bright dress - on his left and Ian on his right side, all flashy orange hair and taller than the other two. Ian was so happy that Yev had drawn the three of them together. Okay there was no hand holding or whatever involved but Ian loved the picture since Yev had drawn his stomach big enough to put a tiny version of his tattoo onto it. Okay, it was actually not much more than a little black spot but Yev had proudly explained to them that this was Ian’s eagle tattoo. And a few days later he came back with a star sticker on the corner of that drawing and told them how his teacher had inferred from that tattoo that his dad served in the Army and how proud they should all be he served his country.  
And…Ian finally looked at the picture Mickey was holding in his shaking hands. Holy shit! His eyes widened.  
“You got it now, firecrotch, yeah?” Mickey hissed at him, lips pressed together, eyebrows raised like only he could do.  
Yes, he got it, but “Mick..” 

“No, don’t fucking tell me it’s not a big deal!” he instinctively said, perfectly interpreting the look at Ian’s face, lifting his eyebrows again.  
Now easily looking down on Mickey since he stood up Ian guided him down on the bed. He really wanted to talk things out but not right know. Not after a busy night at the Fairytale, not when Yev and Mandy were gone and Katy busy at the TV, not when Mickey got this slightly annoyed look on his beautiful face, licking his lips which made Ian think of a lot far more entertaining things they could, no should be doing right now. 

“Fuck, Ian, I’m trying to talk to you. “ but since there was no longer sadness or anger in Mickey’s voice Ian snuggled closer to him. “Really…” Mickey tried to argue again while Ian started to crawl upon him his hands enclosing each side of Mickey’s arms, their noses almost touching. 

“..that’s im..” Mickey started a last half-hearted attempt knowing too well he was already lost before the next syllable was covered by a tender but lustful kiss.  
“Katy…”

“Paw Patrol” Ian whispered in between more kisses while lifting Mickey’s legs over his shoulders. As he supported himself with one arm, he gently stroked a strand of hair from Mickey’s face with his other hand, looking deep into his eyes. With a glance that seemed to touch their two souls everything was said without having to pronounce it aloud and Mickey slowly calmed down. He relaxed while Ian was grinding on him, never losing eye contact and they were slowly getting lost in each other’s sight.  
After a while it was time to get rid of the obstructive trousers and when Ian’s long fingers eventually began to caress Mickey’s full grown cock it instantly provoked a blissful moaning: “Hmmmm”.  
Ian grinned happily, loving that smirk on Mickey’s face so much. He leaned in to a deep throat kiss, his fingers sliding down round Mickey’s balls, starting to squeeze them rhythmically to the movements of his demanding tongue. Mickey clung to him and Ian let his hand wander up again, smearing some pre cum on the head of Mickey’s dick. They could feel each other’s hot breathes, exchanging delicate sucks on their necks. Mickey started to breathe faster when Ian’s firm stroking made him shudder with pleasure, goose bumps spreading over his whole upper body in anticipation of what would lead him to the climax. He groaned and closed his eyes pressing his head back to the pillow wishing at the same time that this would last forever and that Ian would make him come as fast and hard as possible.  
The heat was flashing all over his body straight up to his head, as suddenly their bedroom door was torn open; Ian jumping off in shock pulling painfully at his dick. 

“THE FUCK GALLAGHER!” 

But Ian didn’t have time to bother with Mickey’s anger. In a panic he tried to avoid letting Katy see just too much, positioning himself in front of the fuming lovebird, trying to throw a blanket over Mickey.

“Are you ever gonna make me something to eat? Please?” 

“Sure sweety. I’m coming.” 

Ian hurried to push her out of the room as quickly as possible, a frustrated “Yeah, wish I would be coming, too!” being the last thing he heard when he carefully closed the door behind them.


	2. Pencils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets a littly tiny bit angsty. And we'll get some background/insight information about Svetlana. I put her thoughts into italics (thanks for Jade for showing me not only this but being a great inspiration through the last days!)
> 
> A huge thanks to all my AMAZING beta readers!!!  
> And I also have to thank a wild bunch of crazy girls who talked me into finally publishing here. 
> 
> You might want to listen to that song for this chapter:  
> [Tom Odell - Real Love](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eZLYp-jgx-I&t=0s&list=PLXq8Y6hDjesKOJwd_bDClz2FCi6nIM84A&index=3)

“Get lost.” Mickey growled at his sister who’d come back from the early shift and sat down next to him at the kitchen table.  
Mandy’s hair was tied to the usual pony tail that still made her appear younger than she was.  
  
The last few years had left their marks and though she looked a bit exhausted after the early shift at the supermarket, she still had that sparkle in her eyes and her mischievous grin.  
Yes, of course she despised her job, a job that made long party nights nearly impossible and put her in one line with all the boring working people she always tended to be a bit blasé about. But working at the supermarket didn’t just provide some money it also gave her the chance to be back at home already when her daughter got up, which was such an important time of the day to share with her. And Mandy being around early was also helpful in case Ian was still tired after just coming home a bit earlier when he had a good night at the Fairytale.  


Mickey reminisced how working at night or in the wee morning Mandy and Ian covered the daytime “shift” before Mickey got home around 6pm from his job at the garage and how of all people Svetlana had helped him get the job at the garage. Although he was surprised it wasn’t anything illegal, he was happy that it provided him and Yevgeny with health insurance. The insurance was basic, covering Yevgeny’s visits to the pediatrician, but nothing to do with Ian’s medical expenses. Therefore, they still relied on state welfare and regular visits to the free clinic. Not to mention the fact that they had to be married before Ian could benefit from Mickey’s insurance at all…  


Anyway, they were a well-trained team and Svetlana was an important part of it. Although Mickey didn’t like to admit it, she had been, besides Mandy, his most significant someone in the time after Ian and he got separated.  
When he was busy figuring out what happened, how he was supposed to deal with it and how he could get Ian back into his life, it was Svetlana who was always there for him – regardless of whether he realized or appreciated it or not – and she had taken care of their son day and night. Only her relationship with Mandy was a bit tense but that had given him an easy explanation to not let her move in with them. Although Ian had been pressing on it again and again Mickey and Mandy were in agreement with this decision and Svetlana herself was too prideful to show just how much it would have meant to her. And when the Milkovich siblings left Terry’s house for good Svetlana moved into a nearby two bedroom apartment, constantly trying to convince herself that Mickey’s and her first encounter had simply been too traumatizing to go all happy little family now.  
  
But then there were nights when she didn’t have Yev and drank too much. Or days when she had to attend one of these school events and the afternoons with all the other picture perfect moms only left her exhausted. When she then later sat in front of Yev’s bed watching him sleeping peacefully she could only doubt herself so much. It was nights like these when she wasn’t able or willing to suppress the thought that the way they had met was something she also didn’t ask for. It was not her fault. But it was her who got pregnant and who was dependent on Terry and Mickey during that time while not being able to make a lot of money. It was her who didn’t abort Mickey’s son and it was her who didn’t report Ian to the police and finally even forgave and trusted him again.  
_Yes, she would then think bitterly, you may all think I just didn’t report him because I had to fear something myself as an illegal immigrant, but no, I understood the situation._  
_I knew deep down in my heart that was so full of angst that Ian would have never ever harmed my baby in any way. I knew it would have killed both of you if he got arrested for it and put away for a long time. I knew that me being responsible for your heartbreak would have been so much worse than being forced into a rape and that THAT would have been something we never would have been able to work out._  
_You made me feel how much of a burden I was for you and nevertheless I shared all my knowledge about babies and all my love for Yev with you. I always knew how truly you love Ian and that I would never just get a glimpse of that love from you and nevertheless I gave my heart and soul to you when he crushed you._  
_I was the one who comforted you and held you when you drank too much and rioted through the streets coming home to your son, devastated and crumbled to pieces, crying yourself into sleep, yelling at me the next morning, pretending not to remember anything._  
_It was me who spoke to Ian again and again and who pushed you again and again not to give up. It was me you little pathetic piece of shit that means so much to me. It was always me. But go, flutter around like a dump butterfly all of you while I’ll be standing at the side, carefully watching over you, giving you the chin, the strong Russian woman. Just leave me by the side, don’t bother, why should you bother in all your luck? Why should anybody care? Don’t care about me, standing there, alone, watching, cold, lonesome, longing. Longing for my own little happiness and cursing myself for also longing for the next crisis when all of a sudden everybody will remember me again, letting me in in your exclusive circle more than willingly again. Fuck you all, you are not the only ones who had a rough life. ___

  


“Geez, dickhead” Mandy said, rolling her eyes, while Katy climbed on her lap wrapping her arms around her mother's neck.  
“Don’t be mad” Ian tried to appease her while he smiled slyly and put a cup of deliciously smelling hot coffee in front of her on the table  
“He’s just angry since we got interrupted.” 

“Interrupted? Damn Idiots! You really don’t have to jump on each other while watching my daughter!” 

And while she reached out to give him quite a hard punch on his upper arm Katy was fast to make clear that “They didn’t watch me, mom! But I instead, me I was watching Paw Patrol!”

While Ian and Mandy chuckled about this typical saucy answer, Mickey jumped up, mumbled something about “needing a smoke” and stormed out of the front door. 

“You know, princess, why don’t we just rush over to the Kash & Grab” and let your mom enjoy her coffee, hm?” 

Mischievously looking up, Katy said “You gonna get me a Snickers? Otherwise you can just go yourself!” 

“Damn Katy!” Mandy scolded her.

“Moohoom Joke! Of course I’ll go with Uncle Ian” and she gave them her best angelic smile looking up to Ian adoringly who rushed to get her bag while silently asking himself how any of them would be able to handle two Milkovich girls. 

“Bye mom!” Katy screamed louder than necessary. Pulling Ian's arm down she whispered: "We will not tell her that you always buy me something anyway."  
Milkovich girls… 

On the porch they ran into Mickey who stood there, smoking.  
“Gonna get a few groceries. You want anything specific?” Ian asked, trying to smooth the waves with a sugary smile, which obviously worked since Mickey put his index finger in one of Ian's belt loops and pulled him close towards him. He looked deeply into Ian’s green eyes, grabbing his ass with one hand, while the little rest of the cigarette seductively hung out of the corner of his mouth.

“Damn, babe, all I want is you. Very specifically.” He smirked, sounding half desperate and half seductive. 

And while this made Ian instantly happy,Mickey kept frowning with a raised eyebrow: 

“This kid shit all the time, it’s just driving me fucking crazy sometimes” and he spat out the fag-end, crushed it and kicked it off the porch, obviously frustrated. After making sure to give his niece a reassuring smile to show her he wasn’t mad at her, Mickey breathed a nearly audible “Sorry man” towards Ian’s ear, his lips slightly tickling Ian’s earlobe. 

“Don’t have to be. I get what you are saying.” Ian sighed “And I promise” he went on, his hand gliding up Mickey’s chest under the t-shirt “I’ll make you relax af tonight.” He was now boldly grinning at Mickey who raised an eyebrow in amusement as Ian began absently playing with his nipple.

“Is that so?” Mickey questioned, but before he was able to deepen his examination they heard a penetrating 

“Eeen!” 

“Coming!” and Mickey couldn’t help smiling while their lips clung together kissing demandingly before Ian trotted away, a happy smile still on his face when he took Katy’s hand and listened attentively to her chattering away.

Getting back inside the house, Mickey was welcomed by Mandy asking him: 

“So, you gonna tell me what’s really bothering you, dickhead?” 

He absent mindedly shook his head about the fact that only his sister could use such a soft voice when using such hard words.  
But her question brought him back to reality from the cloud Ian had put him at with a blow and he was pacing restlessly up and down the kitchen, not sure if he could or even wanted to try putting his feelings into words and opening up to Mandy.  
Sure, he wasn’t any longer the irascible boy he was a few years back and he had grown so much during all he and Ian went through but he was still a Milkovich and some emotional part of him would always be closeted thanks to his loving father. But, he told himself, pressing his hands at his eyes, Terry isn’t fucking around here, man up, say something, and he was finally able to press out: 

”I…After all this years, whenever I think I found my way around the kids, I kinda fall back and they,…I dunno, I love them both, but sometimes…God Mandy, I fear, sometimes I wish I could just be alone again with Ian.” 

He looked up hesitantly, not sure what to get from his ever oh so blunt sister. And he wasn’t disappointed:  
“Jesus Mickey” she laughed profusely and somehow relieved. She had expected him to be worried about something with Ian, but this had surprised her.  
“Mickey. You just confessed the most typical wish of every single fucking parent on this whole world” she explained to him, still laughing.  
“And it gets even better: this is some very rare thing you can’t blame on our fucked up childhood. It’s simply common. Who knew the Milkoviches would ever go there, huh?” and she got up to get another cup of coffee now feeling all lighthearted.  
Strangely enough though it wasn’t over for Mickey yet. 

“Maybe it’s not directly the kids. I don’t really want to change the way we have it now, but, all that comes with it. Kindergarten, school, all the people you have to interact with…” 

“Which is something you mastered to avoid the last years with excellence my dear brother!”

She couldn’t help herself interrupting him since it was either Svetlana or her who attended parents nights and stuff like that. So again, very common, they simply took the chores most women would.  
But before she was able to get lost in thoughts musing about how sexist her brother had actually behaved over the years and how she had allowed that although she was thinking of herself as a strong and emancipated woman, her brother now ranted: 

“What I mean is, why on earth do they always invade your privacy? They shouldn’t force the kids to draw their families. That’s none of their fucking business!” 

Mandy sighed dramatically, rolled her eyes and sitting down with her coffee she explained:

“I doubt they have to force them, but I’m happy we are finally getting to the point, douchebag” and she simply couldn’t help to emphasize her words with a slight clap on his back of his head.

“The fuck, Mandy?!”

Unaffected she continued: “Guess that’s just an easy way to really find stuff out. You know, if there’s some shit going on in the family.”  
“Like sick shit” she added softly after a small uncomfortable pause between them. 

“Can’t remember us ever doing it” Mickey finally grumbled, weaker than he hoped it would sound.

“Seriously?” and the way Mandy sounded so heartbroken let him finally look her in the eyes. The hurt that was reflected in them made him shudder.

”Okay, maybe, maybe you don’t remember because…well, dunno” she shrugged and Mickey felt an incredible desire for a new cigarette climbing up in him when Mandy went on: 

“She had this dresser in her room. In there she kept everything that was important to her and that she didn’t want him to get it his hands on. Some rare nice clothing and I vaguely remember some papers…maybe birth certificates or whatever, her family bible…” 

“The one he…?” 

“Yes, the one he used to hit us with.” 

They were both shell-shocked about the picture their memories just painted before their eyes and even more when they mutually breathed out: 

“See, how good God is to you” both remembering Terry yelling at them, instantly scared to the bones. 

Mickey couldn’t help it any longer and lit up a cigarette right in the kitchen now, offering the pack to his sister whose eyes were already tearing up.  
Shaking, they both had some puffs to calm down before Mandy continued: 

“Together with some paper Mom also stored the crayons in there to avoid them getting broken somewhere else in the house.  
And her perfume” and the memory of the scent pulled a gentle smile onto her face, but also triggered a painful feeling in Mickey’s chest.  
Unexpectedly he could literally smell his beloved mother he missed so much right there. Holy shit, a lot of times he had problems even properly imagining her face and all of a sudden the scent of her perfume controlled each of his sensations. Remembering how this smell always made him feel comfortable, no, even more, secure, cuddling up to her, was just ripping his heart out. 

“Mands” he quivered. 

“Well, what I just wanted to say” Mandy now exclaimed fast and exaggerated cool, “we painted too!” and before she had finished the sentence the door flung open and Yev came in, back from school. Mandy must have heard him already storming up the porch and Mickey was never happier about getting interrupted by his son. Already cursing himself for being such a pussy Mickey tried to suppress the memories of his mother as quickly as possible, although a small voice in his head was telling him that the memories were there now and that they would surely show up again in the most unpleasant way and at the most unsuitable time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! I love to answer every comment!


	3. Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are slowly gaining speed. It's getting dirty and dark.  
> Words in italics are Mickey's thoughts/memories.  
> Have fun!  
> As always: comments are highly appreciated.
> 
> Thanks again to my wonderful group of beta readers and Twelve and Jade with whom I once tagged ourselves as things in a pic where Ian and Mickey were standing in front of a board at the Milkovich house that had a picture of cherubs in it. What that has to do with this chapter? Well, you'll see my friends.
> 
>  
> 
> [Nightcore - You can be the boss](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YyeApehv3es&t=0s&list=PLXq8Y6hDjesKOJwd_bDClz2FCi6nIM84A&index=4)

  


“You liked that?” Ian asked tantalizing, while their wet foreheads were still nestled against each other.

“Huh?” 

Mickey could not believe what this little narcissist had just asked! 

“C’mon Gallagher. Would have told you years ago if your fucking was shitty.” Mickey answered saucily which was immediately rewarded with a pillow in his face. 

“Hey, Army! Wanna fight? Yeah? Seriously?” laughing, he rolled over Ian, wrapping his upper body firmly with both arms, their heated faces only millimeters apart. For a moment that seemed to last forever, they looked deeply into each other’s eyes. Ian wished he could sink into the deep blue oceans, only to be driven out of his thoughts by a sounding laughter: 

“You squint!” 

“Do I?” he tried to push Mickey off, boxing him with his fists. But Mick pressed his thighs firmly to Ian's side and sat bomb-tight on his hips.  
As they clung to each other's wrists, neither one willing to yield to the other, Mickey looked down at Ian lustfully. His eyebrows twitched briefly, he sucked at his lower lip and asked yearningly: 

“Ready for another ride, Gallagher?” 

“Ready when you are” Ian laughed and tipped Mickey over quickly, catching him unaware. Ian was still holding Mickey’s arms and he twisted them, rolling Mickey to his back and pressing himself down against his chest. Looking down at the delicate body of his lover, Ian felt devotion floating through every pore of his body. While bending over him, Mickey's hands still trapped by his strong arm, he covered Mick’s neck with firm kisses and passionately began to finger him with his free hand.  
Mickey groaned with relish, but couldn’t help teasing: 

“C’mon, Firecrotch, why spend time on something so obviously still waiting to get wasted? Ah!”

Ian used a third finger to spread him just wide enough for his rock hard throbbing dick, dripping with pre-cum. 

“Holy Fuck!” Mickey yelled out delightfully after Ian’s fast change from long skillful fingers to his impressive cock hit him full on. He didn’t have to hold him any longer since Mickey was now clinging with both hands to the battered sheets, while Ian penetrated him with all his passionate love. 

“God, oh my god, Ian !” 

He wasn’t sure if it was due to the passionate and very pleasurable sex they had just enjoyed before or due to his stress that needed to be eliminated so desperately but Mickey wasn’t able to take more than a few of Ian’s extremely harsh thrusts full of devotion. He felt he was going to end up scattered into pieces if Ian kept moving. Mickey felt like praising it and begging for help at the same minute, being totally carried away when Ian demanded: 

“Now tell me, do you like THAT?!” 

Mickey trembled convulsively, reacting to the last thrust, which hammered at his prostate and produced a hot mess on his stomach. This being the only answer he was able to give, and it was echoed by a damn good fill up and a collapsing body next to him.  
They were both breathing heavily, exhausted by their love and the body of the other one. Full of surrender, Ian brushed Mickey’s dark hair back, kissed him tenderly on the cheek and whispered charmingly in his ear: 

“You know, I liked it…a lot”, before he rolled to the side and grabbed the cigarettes from the nightstand. 

Mickey finally turned towards him, holding his head off with one hand, and beamed: 

“You know, that's good, ‘cause it’s exactly the same to me ” adding a blessed “I really did like it, too” before Ian could put a cigarette between his full lips.  
Satisfied and happy, they both stared at the ceiling sharing a cigarette in silence, until Mickey couldn’t take it any longer and said, slightly shuddering,  
"If you want us to get any sleep tonight, help me get rid of this messed-up sheet, Gallagher.”  


***********************************************  


Angels. He dreamed about angels and wondered if it was possible to frown while dreaming, because that’s what it felt like to him. But if he felt like frowning, was he still dreaming? Mickey moved his head and felt a soft touch of a feather. What the…two giggling angels, one touching him with the tip of his wings, the other holding a bunch of fragile pink flowers.  


“Who…what?” and then he heard himself saying “I know you” and regretting his idiocy right the moment it came out of his mouth. Why on earth should he say to some stupid cherubs ‘I know you’? He was so confused and tried to reach out to the angel above him, wondering how real and fleshy he felt, when he got hold of his shoulder.  


“Hm, hey” which sounded very much like Ian now.  


Opening his eyes, Mickey watched himself holding Ian’s shoulder, seemingly sleeping on after he had grumbled a bit. Mickey pulled his hand back and stroked his sleepy face. Wondering why the hell he dreamed about angels telling them he’d know them put a disturbing feeling in his gut. Especially because they actually did seem familiar to him.  


“C’mon Milkovich” he mumbled to himself, now sitting on his side of their bed, pressing his wrists to his eyes.  


“Mick?”  


“Fuck, sorry.”  


“Everything okay?”  


“Hmmmm” Mickey lied down again trying to sound reassuring mumbling into Ian’s neck.  


“Stress or whatever, making me dream stupid shit” he whispered, clinging closer to Ian whose warmth felt so comforting.  


“Bad shit?” Ian nearly audible asked back.  


“Na, fat angels” and a little dismissive snort was all Mickey managed before they both felt asleep again, spooning, feeling inseparable.

*******************************************  


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZWk4zqmQwVE

All cuddling didn’t help much with Mickey’s attempt to fall asleep again. And as he rolled restlessly in bed, he couldn’t avoid thinking back to the stuff Mandy had brought up. That damn bible. Although Mickey had carefully buried memories of it way back in his broken mind, this morning at the kitchen wasn’t the first time he had to think back of what Terry used to do with the holy book.  
The beating with the bible was a common thing his dad liked to practice as soon as he thought he witnessed any evidence of weakness in one of his children and it had stopped a few years after their mom had died. Mickey had always assumed it was shredded to pieces because of the abuse it had to suffer and give at the same time. But that didn’t prevent the memories chasing him again and again. Memories of the feeling left by the old, rough cover on his cheek, memories of the slightly musty smell of the wafer-thin pages as they swept past his nose.  


When Mickey positioned himself onto his right side, avoiding having to look at Ian, he remembered it had been on Yevgeny’s baptism when that memory haunted him for the first time really badly. Not really surprising, considering that he had been in a church which was one of those places his father abhorred. Therefore he had never been surprised back then that Terry had never showed up there. His nervousness wasn’t caused because he thought he’d have to face his father again, it was caused by his memories of what the whole surrounding stood for. The church represented everything Katherine had loved and every weakness Terry had thought she characterized.  
How could she dare to seek refuge in anything but her unwavering husband?  


Mickey turned on his back tensely, thinking of how the only thing that saved him from a real panic attack back then was Ian. As furious as his appearance at the baptism made him, he knew that he would have totally lost it that day without being grounded by the sight of his love. He wasn’t frustrated or unnerved because Ian showed up. In fact, Ian had soothed his nerves. But he had been frustrated that Ian had exposed himself so easily to danger. He didn’t want his precious one to be anyway near to dangerous or toxic people and he was convinced Svetlana was vicious enough to willingly destroy the redhead.  
And while she seemed to have all the time in the world waiting for a miracle to make Terry show up, he had already possessed Mickey’s mind.  


_The fuck you need God for? Am I not enough? You have to obey me!  
_

__

__

_**“Let’s get the show on the road, alright?!”  
** _

__****

_You can’t escape me, son. I’ll always gonna find you, everywhere. You and your faggot ass. Should have wiped you harder as a kid.  
_

__

_Dad, please.  
_

__

_Look what I got here.  
_

__

_Please dad, not mom’s bible.  
_

__

_Why not? I owne her, it’s mine. You are all mine!  
_

__

_Ian! Ian you can’t be here. He’ll find you too. Ian. Breathe in. breathe out. Fuck  
_

__

_**“Through this baptism, Yevgeny is cleansed from sin”  
** _

__****

_Yeah like fuck he is. He was conceived in sin, his grandfather is a personification of sin. Lord help me. You did shit for my mother just help us this one time. I can’t let him have the baby. I can’t let him get Ian. God, please.  
_

__

“Fuck”  


Mickey got up and stumbled to the bathroom. His throat was dry, his chest was hurting and glancing at the mirror he had to realize that he looked even shittier than he felt. Smashing some water in his face made him feel a bit better. Trying to stable his breathing Mickey remembered the second time memories of the bible beating had been triggered.  


He hadn’t been enthusiastic that Ian wanted to go to that soldiers’s funeral. How the fuck did he even got to know about it? But like hell would he have let him go on his own. Never. And especially not while the MP were chasing after him and that dickhead insisted on wearing his uniform. Thinking back on that now made him shiver. What a stupid situation. How little did he know back then how to take care of a coming manic phase before it got out of hand.  


“Fuck!” he slammed his right fist onto the cold sink. Mickey felt ashamed to have failed back then. Of course he didn’t really have, but that’s what he always felt later on, thinking back of Ian’s first episodes. He always blamed himself for not doing better, for not trying even harder and after a while he even started to blame himself for getting exhausted of it. Why couldn’t he take it like a man? Help his loved one through it, with all his strength? Why was that alone already too much yet alone when he actually also should have taken care of money, the household, Yevgeny. Mandy.  


Maybe his father had been right. What if he really was a useless retard? Not capable of doing just one thing right?  


_“You did okay, Mickey. You know, you tried. That’s more than most people would do.”  
_

__

__

Screw “okay”!. And he just tried. He tried and tried and tried so hard, but never really succeeded. When would he ever be able to prevail? Why had he never been to one of Yevgeny’s parent’s nights? Why did he stop to know what’s going on with his sister? Why did he start to rely on the whore that had raped him?  


Why?  


He felt how the content of his stomach creeping up his throat, his vision got blurry and he had to cling to the edge of the basin with both hands.  


_Why? Son, you know why.  
_

__

_Yes dad, because I’m a failure. Always was, ever will be. I’m a fucked up failure.  
_

__

And then something strange happened: just as Terry’s beastly grinning face appeared in Mickey’s imagination and threatened to drag him down into a dark spiral he heard a faint rumble from Yevgeny's room, which immediately brought him back to reality.  


“No way! There is no way your damn Nazi ass will get me!” he furiously whispered and left the cold bathroom to sneak over to Yev’s room. He stopped in the doorway and looked lovingly down at his peacefully sleeping son. And then he remembered that this was his home and could be as sappy, loving and caring as he wanted. There was no one who would ever give him a strange look if he displayed any affection to his son. Because that’s what parents were supposed to do: cuddle, hug, support.  


He cautiously knelt down by the bed and lovingly stroked a strand of Yev's forehead. When Mickey realized his hands were shaking he managed to ground himself again by taking long and deep breathes, inhaling the strange smell only a boy’s room could carry, which made him smile.  


“Hey, little stinky bug…I love you.” and he had to press his palms against his eyes for a moment before he could say what was burning on his soul.  


“I promise, I’ll be a good dad, Yev!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think.  
> Hopefully I'll be able to update the next chapter in a week.


	4. Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut and a little bit of heartbreak.
> 
> This chapter was inspired by a gif tweeted from “Mumbles” where Mickey is sitting in the Gallagher kitchen dripping syrup from way down high onto his pancakes.
> 
> You may want to listen to Simon Curtis – "Flesh" to feel the mood ;o)  
> [Nightcore - You can be the boss](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mEfKooMunLI&list=PLXq8Y6hDjesKOJwd_bDClz2FCi6nIM84A&index=4)

“Ready for school, Yev?” 

Mickey looked adoringly at his son who grabbed his well-worn books and took a brown paper bag out of Ian’s hand. 

“Sure. Thanks for the pancakes, Papa” 

“Welcome, Yevy. Now go, have fun!” 

“With Maths?” dramatically rolling his eyes, Yev hurried to leave the kitchen before Ian could pull him into one of his infamous hugs. Although, Yevgeny didn’t really mind the hugging, he just started to feel a bit uncomfortable, getting kissed on the cheek when it was anything else than a good night kiss, and he wasn’t sure how to bring it up to Ian without hurting him since it seemed to be so important to him. Maybe Yev was only 8 years old, but he understood years ago that his Pa was the biggest cuddler ever. And Yev didn’t mind to comfort Ian when he needed to be taken care of because he felt down – thinking about this made the little boy instantly shiver - but now all was good and Yev was a big boy. 

“Bye!” and off he was off, walking down the street in a typical Milkovich swagger. 

Inside the house, his two fathers flinched as the front door slammed shut so hard that the door frame trembled. 

“Damn boy” Mickey frowned, still a bit tired and confused from last night’s dream.

“Hey, it’s just a door” Ian tried to calm Mickey down, with an apologetic smile “Its way worse that I didn’t get my goodbye-kiss” he pouted, leaning in on Mickey to get a kiss from him instead. 

“Man, he is eight” Mickey sighed, planting a soft kiss on Ian’s lips “It’s just fucking normal, that… whoa hey, careful! Damn Gallagher, could have fucking burned you with my coffee! How come you are so damn needy this early?” Mickey couldn’t help laughing when Ian didn’t let go of him. 

“Always needy for you!” Ian grinned, pushing Mickey against the wooden kitchen table.  
Mickey relaxed. With a wide grin he set the cup at a safe distance, just before Ian clung to him full of desire, one hand hiking down to Mickey’s crotch. He started to massage it slowly, upwards while planting his tongue inside Mickey’s mouth, covering a hot moan.

“Urgh! Jesus fucking Christ! Why don’t you two idiots just stay in your own room?” Mandy called out with a mixture of disgust and laughter when she entered the kitchen. 

“Cause this is also our own damn fucking kitchen!” Mickey hissed, annoyed from her disruption.

“Well, just don’t use it for fucking, then, dickhead!” 

“Just go f…”he instantly stopped his cursing as soon as he realized Katy was hopping down the stairs. 

She ran right into Ian’s arms, and got lifted into the air.  
“Hey, princess!” Ian welcomed his little ray of sunshine, whirling her around a few playful rounds before carefully putting her down. He welcomed Mandy with a strong and loving hug, inhaling the slight apple scent of her shampoo.

“Pancakes again?” Mandy wondered, smirking a bit judgemental.

“Well, you need some power for your girl’s power shopping, right?” the redhead chuckled. 

“Yeah, you wish. I just have to find some sandals for this little monster, who is growing faster than a beanstalk” Mandy playfully addressed her daughter, nudging her nose with her own in a very loving way, tickling her a bit.

Mickey observed the breakfast scene nervously, leaning, visibly tense against the countertop. While Ian wanted to give Mandy a cup of coffee, Mickey could no longer hold it. He fished a $ 10 bill from his pocket, literally lifted Katy out of her chair, put her into Mandy’s arms, and shoved both of them towards the door.

“Here, take it and get your pancakes at Patsy’s Pies!” he grumbled.

While Ian broke into ringing laughter, Mandy looked quite angry but didn’t mind the extra 10 bucks. Katy however tried to wander straight back to her place demanding “but I want Ian’s pancakes!”

”Oh, c’mere, princess.” Mandy said, taking her by the hand, throwing a gloomy glare at her brother “Let’s just leave them alone and start our girl’s day earlier.” And as Mickey made sure they got out on the porch as soon as possible she groused a “needy fucker!” in his ear. 

Usually Mickey would have had nothing but a tired smile for such a remark, but he felt irritable.

When he turned back to the living room, still frowning, Mickey couldn’t believe what awaited him in the kitchen. 

“Holy mutha fucka!” his mouth dropped open. 

Ian leaned against the working surface, trousers draped down, jerking off with his left hand while holding a bottle of syrup in his right, open, with the golden liquid dripping slowly to his erect cock. Slowly walking towards Ian, not too sure what to think about this, Mickey realized how beautiful the sun shone through the window and made the syrup all sparkly. How breathtakingly hot Ian looked. So confident while doing the craziest shit.  
Mickey questioningly raised an eyebrow.

”Just remembered you like ‘em sweet.” Ian said with a dark voice, almost moaning.  
“Come. Get down!” 

“The fuck, Gallagher?” 

“Down. Take me!” Ian pushed Mickey down by his shoulder, forcing him to his knees. 

“Damn, Ia..” 

But Ian demandingly interrupted him and growled: “Lick it, Baby” 

Before Mickey could change his mind - not that he really wanted it - Ian temptingly stroked his cock against his full lips. Sweetness and the best cock he’d ever get, tickled his body with electrifying shivers.

Mickey couldn’t help but wonder if that was exactly what he needed right now: “God, yeah!” That really was the one and only fucking dick he ever wanted in his life. 

They didn’t do it very often in this position. Although Mickey nearly always bottomed, he somehow barely kneeled down before his man to blow him off. But this time, it was so… well, sweet and a grin appeared on Mickey’s face. 

“Thinks that’s fucking funny?” Ian instantly scolded him  
“C’mon show me how much you like it!” 

And Mickey obeyed, responding by allowing Ian’s impressive dick to slip inside his already greedy mouth. He finally allowed himself to enjoy Ian’s stupid idea. Shit, his whole face was sticky, but he couldn’t care less as Ian penetrated deeper and deeper. Ian grabbed him by the back of his head, pushing him even more. Mickey could taste the remains of syrup mixed with the bitterness of precum.  
All of a sudden Mickey was forcefully pulled back by his hair, only to see Ian grinning insanely down on him, smearing more tacky molasses on his hands, grabbing Mickey’s mouth, twirling around his thick lips a bit harshly with his gooey thumbs. He let Mickey suck his left thumb, while using the other hand to pour more syrup on his hard, standing dick again; and up it went for another round in Mickey’s warm mouth.  
Both moaning loud, lost in their feelings, Mickey could feel Ian was getting close to loosing it. But just as he was expecting him to come, hot and filling in his mouth, Ian pulled his throbbing dick out again and pushed Mickey hard against the shoulder. 

“Lay down I need to fuck you!” 

With excitement, Mickey tore his pants down and got rid of his t-shirt. As if Ian could feel that he thought for a fraction of a second that a fuck on the probably not too clean kitchen floor wasn’t too intriguing, he pushed him down on the floor and kissed him forcefully. He held Mickey on the ground by his shoulders, smiled at him self-confidently and said:  
“Gonna sweeten that ass up a bit.”

Without any protest, Mickey gave in, and seductively spread his legs, Ian’s hands finding the hole he so desperately needed. Ian fingered him with the expertise of a true master with one hand while the other reached above across Mickey’s arms to make sure he stayed tied up down on the floor. It was an irritating mixture between manhandling and spoiling Mickey.  
Taking full advantage of his size, Ian grinded ever so slightly over Mickey’s body, touching the other man’s dick only delicately, full well knowing he was truly wrecking him. Shivering, Mickey tried to get a kiss but only got a bite at his ear.  


“Fuck! Fuck Ian…damn, you…god…”  
Ian took a firm hold of Mickey’s dick, softly smearing some com over its head.

“Hold it, Mickey, show me how you can take it. I’m gonna fill you up so well!”  
And with one forceful thrust he entered the nearly gone man who could only let out a loud moan: “Aaahh!”  
Sitting nearly upright, pushing himself up on his knees, Ian now let go of Mickey’s arms and slowly began to push into him.  
When Mickey heard himself groaning: “Damn, fucker, you are so good. Always do me so good!” he wondered for a second when he became such an easy instrument for his crazy redhead who was looking down at him in the most breathtaking way. Ian’s body was so impressive. Touching his nipples Mickey thought he might be drooling.  
And Ian straightened up again, finding a nerve-racking rhythm, totally loosing himself on the path of filling his love up until the stop.

“Gonna make you beg for mercy, Mick!” 

“Yeah? That aint ever gonna happen” Mickey pressed out, trying not to lose the last bit of his self-esteem. Holding Ian’s hips he wanted to lead the rhythm when Ian just perfectly hit his prostate one too many times  
“Diiiiiii….ck! Aaaahhhh!” Mickey collapsed, spreading his wonderful cum all over his soft belly while Ian followed on the spot, filling him up profoundly.  
They both couldn’t help but had to laugh, full of hormones rushing through their bodies.

Carefully sliding out, Ian laid down on the kitchen floor next to the love of his life. No sign of determination any longer possessed him; only pure devotion shone through his eyes when he looked at Mickey, adoringly, his typical goofy grin on his lips. 

Still breathing heavily, Mickey wondered: “Damn, Gallagher, what was that?” 

“Something sweet, I hope”, Ian smiled, while he was swiping a sweaty strand of hair from Mickey’s eyes. Most lovingly caressing Mickey’s cheek, he kissed him dedicatedly. “I love you Mickey”.

“Love you too.” 

***************************

 

Mickey had been late for work that day and the further the day progressed, the more he doubted whether it had been worth it.  
Sure, the sex itself was undoubtedly good. But it did feel slightly off and his boss had given him a good lecture about work ethics. Meanwhile Mickey’s mind kept drifting back to the kitchen incident, asking himself if Ian had started to show signs of a manic phase.  
Since he had to catch up for the late start and Ian had texted him that he on the other hand would like to start working earlier this night, Mickey had organized to meet Yev at Svetlana’s home.  
Frowning his forehead he sighed, thinking that his little son wasn’t that little any more, and how odd it was that Yev seemed to feel closer to Svetlana the older he got. 

Sitting in their old, slightly musty smelling car, Mickey thought back to the days when Yev had still been a baby. From his first days until he became a toddler he was so obsessed with Ian’s hair. And how could Mickey had been angry about that? Of course he couldn’t, he simply spend quite some time watching Ian and Yevvy on the floor, and later on the used playing blanket from Liam that Debbie had gotten them. In awe he watched them bonding, Ian with his contagious smile, paired with unclouded love and Yev with his childlike curiosity, paired with unclouded trust. The way Yev carefully reached to touch Ian’s soft hair over and over again always made Mickey’s heart swell. Sitting at a safe distance most of the time, he loved how he knew that Yev could smell a slight scent of apricots as Ian leaned down to him or cuddled him in a way his silky hair touched the baby’s nose.  
Sometimes Sevtlana would join Mickey, simply adoring the two and as time passed by, the distance Mickey had kept himself in, vanished. The four of them became a big ball of love; like a ball of wool but not the soft uncomplicated one, with all their problems they was no cashmere but a big bundle of acrylic love.  
Getting older, Yev got closer to Svetlana. You could have expected otherwise, but with Mickey having to help Ian through another depressive phase when Yev was just 1,5 years old, there simply was no way any of them could have taken care of Yev properly. Mickey barely managed to keep their shit together and that’s how Mandy came back to the game. She moved in, Svetlana moved out and right now, driving towards her, Mickey thought, they never should have let her go. Damn, Ian had kidnapped her baby, she had woken up to him sleeping in her husband’s bed and had nevertheless always cared for them, all three of them. 

Getting closer to her apartment, Mickey wondered if he had only organized to meet there because he recently realized, how much Yev liked to stay with Svetlana after school rather than with Mandy and Katy or if he subconsciously made sure he got a little time away from their modest little house. He was overjoyed Ian and him managed to live together; 9 years ago not one of them would have dared to even dream about. But lately he repeatedly felt as if their house with its narrow walls seemed to crush him and he felt an urge to run away. Until now, he was satisfied with escaping to his job, but subconsciously he already feared that might not be enough one time.  
As soon as he caught himself thinking like that, Mickey immediately felt ashamed. How could he not feel like the luckiest man in the world, but so detached and estranged from everyone around him so often? He wanted to feel good and be lucky but ever so often he only felt guilt. Guilty for not being a better father, guilty for not dealing with Ian’s bipolar shit better, guilty for not being stronger and more capable to cope with all their challenges, guilty to feel ashamed and angry that Yev didn’t dare to draw a loving picture of him holding hands with Ian. God, there was so much he was angry about!

Knocking at Svetlana’s door, Mickey tried to shake that burden off and he shook his head vehemently, which earned him a slightly confused look from Svetlana.

“All good? Drink beer with me?” she welcomed him as they got inside the apartment.

“Yeah. Hey, son.” 

“Hey dad!”

Mickey sat down at the kitchen table and when Svetlana handed him the bottle of beer she held it a bit longer than necessary in her hand. Mickey looked up at her and noticed a sentimental smile on her face. He raised an eyebrow “What?”

“Nothing.” Svetlana tried to brush away but when she sat down she added: “You look exhausted, Mick.  
“But” and she leaned over to him whispering “I am very happy you call him son and not ‘Fuck you’ anymore” and she gave him a good smirk.

“What…?” Mickey started to grumble but when their eyes crossed he couldn’t help but smile a bit “God, Lana.” Mickey let out a deep sigh and from the corner of his eyes he saw that Svetlana’s hand was trembling, unsure if she should reach out the few centimeters to touch his hand. He stared at her hand and slightly panicking, he registered how his eyes began to burn. When she pulled her hand back, Mickey wasn’t sure if it made him feel relieved or sad.

“Times rough? All good with redhead?” she asked briskly which instantly made Mickey feel guilty. God knows he had treated her badly in the beginning and nevertheless she had always been the one to sense first if he was feeling off and worried about Ian. Before her, it was something only Mandy mastered and he always felt this was - if not the only then at least one – of the reasons the two women never got along really well. If they were put in the same room, there was always this strange vibration of jealousy filling the atmosphere. 

With a quick glance at Yevgeny who was packing his stuff together he mumbled:  
“I’m not sure. He has a lot of energy recently.”

“Ah. Use this energy to talk then, Mickey. Not just fuck. Fuck can tell you about dick, but not about heart.”

“Mom!”

“Yes, yes, don’t scold me, my dytyna.” She tried to calm down Yevgeny and again leaned towards Mickey and this time she held his arm: “Go home, Mikhailo, ask heart.”

Mickey didn’t dare to look at her. What happened? His 8 year old son was staring at him and waiting to go home, home to his partner. And a former whore who once got forced to rape him, reassured him to do so, speak to his boyfriend and find out if he was ok. Mickey felt so weak. 

He sniffed, not looking up to any of them.  
“Let’s go home.” He blurted out, pushing past Svetlana towards the door. And while mother and son exchanged their good-byes, Mickey was thankful for the fresh air.  
Yev quickly joined him. He didn’t take his father by the hand but they didn’t have to, to feel close. They went back to their own little realm; and vowed to do everything they had to do to take care of the man they both loved so dearly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dytyna (дитина = baby)


	5. Tulsa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we'll follow Mickey and his boss Nykolai on a trip to Tulsa. The shit that meanwhile happens back in Chicago is the reason for the absence of the other Gallaghers in this fic. They messed up big time, therefore I didn't feel like writing about them ;o)  
> Get yourself prepared for angst, domestic bliss and some nice texting from our boys.
> 
> See notes at the end for translations. 
> 
> Writing in italics are (Mickey's) thoughts and memories.
> 
> Some music for this chapter:  
> [Ella Henderson - Yours](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAjKZJarlwk&index=7&list=PLXq8Y6hDjesKOJwd_bDClz2FCi6nIM84A)

Sitting down for dinner, all of them around the shaky kitchen table, Mickey thought about how much the scenery reminded him of the multitude of tumultuous evenings he had spent at the Gallagher house. Damn, thinking about the fucking Gallaghers instantly gave him a headache. 

“You’re alright, Mick?” Ian asked solicitous while he was twirling around, preparing some sausages for the kids. 

“Yeah, it’s nothing”. Oh, wow the understatement of the year. Yeah, nothing, there was nothing left from the Gallaghers in their life and for a good reason. 

“And there goes the ketchup!” Ian called like a salesman and threw the plastic bottle of Heinz towards Yev who caught it like a baseball pro.  
The theatrics were starting to get on Mickey’s nerves. He tried to give Mandy an imploring look, but she was busy getting the mayonnaise for Katy.  
There had been a time when Mickey would have talked to Fiona or Lip about Ian’s indications; but not anymore.  
And while the kids and Ian started to use their Wiener sausages as lightsabers, Mickey couldn’t help to think back to the one horrendous incident that finally let the barrel with the Gallaghers overflow. Six years ago he had to cut the ribbon, a decision not only for his, but mainly for Ian’s sake. 

 

_Mickey had just started to work for Svet’s cousin Nykolai at his garage a few months earlier. He was finally getting into a smooth routine, without worrying too much about Ian, who busied himself looking after Yevgeny during the day and dancing at three nights, two during the week and one on Saturday. Saturday party night always gave Mickey a headache, but the extra money Ian brought home from these few hours alone was sadly something they couldn’t reject. The owner of the Fairytale initially made some condescending remarks about how Mickey, with his sullen face, was bad for the business, when he hung out there during Ian’s shifts, but after Mickey had made it clear in a typical Milkovich manner that he would either watch his friend as often and long as it pleased him or they’d lose their fuckin’ best golden butt, the man got used to Ian’s personal watchdog who took care with eagle eyes that things never got too heated. Being there, more or less together, while Mickey clung to as few drinks as possible, was their Saturday routine. And if they both had learned something through Ian’s bipolar episodes, it was that routine was an essential part to avoid getting off track._  
Therefore, Mickey wasn’t too enthusiastic when Nykolai told him they’d have to go to Tulsa to help his nephew open his own garage. A change of scenery, as unusual as it was for a Milkovich, was not what he dreaded, but the tiring trip, new surroundings and the unfamiliar daily routine they’d have to face was what ultimately led them to decide that it was better for Ian to stay with his family for the expected two weeks.  
_If only they knew it would be one of the most fatal decisions of their life._

_“Mickey, teper potrapyte v mashynu!”_

_„No one knows, what the fuck you are saying!” Mickey yelled back to his boss without malice and mumbled onto the laughing lips of his boyfriend “who the fuck takes a 12 hours ride with a car anyway?”_

_“You?”_

_“Yeah, c’mere, smart ass!” and he hungrily slotted their lips together in the fresh morning air._

_After some honking, Nykolai got off the car, mumbling “Zarady Boha, tilʹky 14-richni divchata tsiluyutʹ bilʹshe, nizh ty” after he had to realize, that all the honking did, was waking up the neighbors without separating the two lovebirds._

_“Hey.”_

_“Oh, hey” Ian answered timidly._

_“I can see, what makes separation hard, but we have to go now. Mickey!” Nykolai smirked, while Mickey rolled his eyes, but finally let go off Ian._

_I’ll write you!” Ian rushed to call out after Mickey, who hurried to separate their hands._

_Mickey didn’t answer, suddenly painfully aware of the PDA that just happened and not only in the middle of some Southside street but even worse, in front of his boss. And although Nykolai seemed to be pretty cool about it, Mickey felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment, when he hopped into the pick up truck._

_The two men spent nearly all of the first hour of their ride in silence, which was absolutely fine for Mickey who had no intension whatsoever in small talk and who was simply grateful he didn’t have to listen to some strange Ukrainian folk music blaring from the radio. But he wasn’t unaware that Nykolai got more and more fidgety, as if he had to suppress something he actually wanted to say. So Mickey finally dared to turn his head away from the window, faced his boss and raised one of his eyebrows questioningly._

_“Hmm, it..it smells good, what’s coming from your backpack.” The bullnecked man muttered, which earned him another raised eyebrow._  
_“So I was wondering is it true, you…” and he gestured vaguely to Mickey’s direction “you are into cooking?”_

_“Who the fuck told you I would be into cooking?!”_

_“Well, you, your friend then I guess, like, hum, gay people…they like to cook…I heard, I guess.”_

_Mickey could hardly suppress the laughter that wanted to erupt, and although he felt slightly, but only very slightly sorry for the older man’s clumsyness, he decided not to give in that fast._

_“Huh, you heard that, hm? Wonder were some respectable guy like you” and when he realized how Nykolai seemed to grow a few inches in his seat at the word “respectable” it was really hard not to laugh out loud “might have heard that.”_  
_And like that it was Nykolai’s turn now to blush, and Mickey finally showed some mercy. He dug through his backpack, pulling out two immense sandwiches, which had grilled bacon and pork beef on it. But the really astounding thing was that one of it came with a little folded note, saying “Nykolai”._  
_Mickey put on his most convincing grumpy face, shook his head as if he was disappointed and said in a deep baleful voice “Guess I need to have a word or two with Ian, once we are back. Writing you notes is not the way I expect him to behave.”_  
_His boss nearly swallowed on that sentence, his eyes growing wide, when he began to cough._

_“Easy, boss, easy. Couldn’t resist letting you sweat a bit. The note is from Svetlana, although I also don’t know what she has to write to you.”_

_Nykolai’s face lightened up at the mentioning of Svetlanas name._  
_“Well, she is my cousin! Show me what she got for me.” ._

_Not bothering to stop while he took the fluffy sandwich with its crusty ingredients, Nykolai read the kyrillic message, stating ‘He is grumpy, but good deep inside. And don’t you dare judging about the ass fucking, Mickey and orange boy are family!’ ._

_“Yeah, yeah, as if I didn’t know.”._

_“Hm?” ._

_“You made a hell of an impression on my little cousin. Never saw her standing up for someone the way he does for you and your boyfriend.” ._

_“No one asked her to.” ._

_Mickey was shocked to get a Father Christmas like laughter as an answer to his grouchy retort “Hoho, don’t be afraid, Mickey, I know you’d bite your tongue off, before asking anyone for a favor or a good word. Hmmm, that sandwich is delicious!” ._

_And since Mickey couldn’t deny that, they went on driving in silence again, after they had munched away Svetlana’s provisions only to head for a coffee and piss pause about 100 miles later. ._

_**Mickey: Hey** _

_**Ian: Hey, babe!** _

_**M: Don’t “babe” me.** _

_**I: What you wanna do about it, BABE?** _

_**M: ignore you.** _

_**I: failed ;o)** _

_**M: *eye rolling emoji*** _

_**I: How’s it going….babe?*laughing hard emoji*** _

_**M: All good.** _

_**M: Are you good?** _

_**I: Sure. Hey** _

_**M: ?** _

_**I: I love you, Mick.** _

_**M: Gotta head back to the truck.**_

_**M: Hey, Ian?** _

_**I: ?** _

_**M: *eye rolling emoji* luv ya too.** _

_**I: *red heart* and one day I’ll get a heart, too *kissing emoji*** _

_**M: Keep dreaming, Gallagher *middle finger emoji*** _

 

 _And yes, Ian did dream about being fluffy with Mickey and getting some tenderness back. He actually thought about it right in that moment when he got ready to visit Yev and Svetlana which had painted a content smile on his lips, when his mobile rang._

_“Svet? What’s up? I was just getting ready to…”_

_“ “Don’t come.”_

_“ “What? Why not? I thought I could take Yevvy to the park today, get you some rest, hm?”_

_“ “Oh, Ian” his combination of a smirk with his disarming puppy look was audible through the line and it pained Svetlana not only to deny him to come around, but also not sticking to the agreement she had with Mickey and having to give up some calm moments she could really need._  
_“ “Yev is sick. With children sickness. Giving him red points, looking more like you now.”_  
_“And now it was Ian who was able to hear a thin smile through her exhausted voice._

_“ “You sure you don’t want me to come? Feeling sick, he is probably a handful to handle, hm?”_

_“ “Just as his Daddys are. You stay there orange boy, or Mickey will scold me for giving you kid illness. Understand?” and after a short pause she added: “I need some sleep now. Did you take meds?”_

_“ “Yeah, sure. Hey, hug the little man, will ya? And give me a call if you two need anything.”_

_“But he just heard the hard click on the line since Svet had already hung up._  
_“Without a destination, what he should do with his time now, Ian decided to simply visit his family earlier than planned and headed towards the Gallagher’s house._  
_“As soon as he opened the door, he was welcomed with the usual loud chaos of his siblings._

_“ “Hey!”_

_“ “Oh, hi Ian! Lip is at the college and I have to go in 5 minutes, could you please get Liam ready?” was the hastily welcome he got from Fiona._

_“ “Yeah sure.”_

_“ “Debbie will take him with her in a moment” she exclaimed while rushing up the stairs._

_“Ian didn’t mind and he kneed down to Liam “Hey, big L. Some things never change, hm?”_

*****

_When Ian strolled back home a bit later, after dropping Liam off at a play date he felt pretty tired. Debbie had asked him to run some errands with her, but somehow he didn’t feel well and refusing to accompany Debbie had earned him nothing than an annoyed eye roll, directly followed by a characteristic pityful look, that every member of his family always seemed to keep ready for their ‘did you take your meds, crazy Ian’ attitude. When would they ever understand that first, he had no intensions to ever again not take his meds and second, he could get sick or simply feel off and have a bad day like everybody else? That doesn’t automatically mean, he’d get depressive, sometimes life in the Southside wasn’t all buttercups._  
_Nevertheless Ian himself worried a bit, when he felt feverish, opening the door to their house. He just considered lying down a bit, when his mobile buzzed._

_**M: Hey. Guess where we are driving through rn: fucking Springfield. Think that’s the one from the Simpsons?** _

_**I: What? Awww, Mick. You know, they aren’t real, right?!** _

_**M: *eye roll emoji* thanks dumbass** _

_**I: Oh, c’mon, babe *hugging emoji*** _

_**M: What the fuck did I say about that b word? And what’s up with all the emojis, anyway. You ruined me Gallagher.** _

_**I: *grinning emoji* I LOVE to ruin you, BABE *peach, smirk, thumb up*** _

_**M: ain’t no *thumb up* without an *eggplant*, smartass** _

_Oh god, did he really do that? Mickey couldn’t help but grinning and blushing at the same time._

_“Durni lyubovni ptashky“_

_“Huh?”_

_“You two are, uhm, cute. Not a lot of people are happy, Mick. I’m glad you are.”_

_Mickey didn’t know how to take the kind words from his boss. How came some Ukrainian background seemed to help these days to avoid being a homophobic asshole? After a few minutes of awkward silence, Mickey answered with a soft_

_“Thanks” which earned him a happy smile from Nykolai._

_“We’ll grab something warm to eat short after St. Louis, Mick. Afterwards, you drive a bit, ok?”_

_“Sure.” And in view of the imminent driving, he tried to get some sleep until then._

_Ian meanwhile also tried to get some sleep. He had finally decided that it felt as if flu was coming and only hoped, Mickey was still feeling good._  
_When Nykolai changed from route 55 to route 44, passed St. Louis, followed the route through Eureka and stopped at the local Taco Bell, Ian was sound asleep._  
_Mickey on the other hand got awakened by the smell of Mexican food. And as much as he was annoyed by the fact that Nykolai had let him sleep and already ordered for both of them, opening his eyes to steak and cheese quesadillas wasn’t the worse, he decided. His boss had also brought some nacho fries, cheesy fiesta potatoes and Pepsis. Eating contently, Mickey felt the urge to text Ian again, but decided against it, thinking it would finally get a bit too corny._

***** 

_Once they finally arrived in Tulsa Nykolai had introduced Mickey to his cousin and to the tiny chamber right above the freshly constructed garage where he was supposed to stay the next days .Nykolai himself went to get a rest at his family’s home and agreed upon Mickey they’d meet up again to start work at 7:30 am the next morning and Mickey decided it was ok to reach out to Ian again:_

_**M.: Hey** _

_After waiting for 20 minutes with no response from Ian, he decided to go for a little walk, finding out if he could get a beer somewhere._  
_He found a gas station and prepared himself for his first night alone since a very long time with a sixpack and some BBQ Pringles. Walking back to the garage, he though how old habits are not so easy to put off. And since BBQ Pringles were always connected with his very first encounters with Ian at the Kash ‘n Grab, Mickey decided to call the redhead, after he had laid down on the small box bed._  
_It took a while until he heard a hoarse voice that took him a bit by surprise._

_“Hey, Mick.”_

_“Woah. What’s with your voice? You’ve been sleeping?”_

_“Yeah, I visited Fi and somehow I was exhausted afterwards, like getting a cold. Are you ok?”_

_“Uh, yeah.”_

_An awkward silence fell between them, since Ian felt a bit weak and was just happy to hear Mickey, who, on the other hand, didn’t dare to put too much into it, since he had witnessed Ian taking his pills in the morning._

_“Maybe I’m getting the flu.” It crocked through the line._

_“Geez, maybe it’s just a cold, huh? Maybe Svet can make you a soup, or…”_

_“Mick, I can make a soup myself just fine. Besides, Yev is sick. Nothing serious. Or well, some kid’s disease Svet said. Didn’t want me to come over.”_

_Great. That really didn’t wet down the way, Mickey had hoped for. He honestly had hoped for some sweet talking to his man, secretly or maybe not so secretly jerking off to it, but instead Ian sounded like a grater, felt sick, didn’t visit Svet, which was stepping away from his routine and Yev was ill._

_“Mick?”_

_“Yeah, I’m here. Look, I’ll start work damn early tomorrow; I’ll text you around nine. Okay?”_

_“Sure, Mick.” And there it was, the disappointment in Ian’s voice – as hoarse as it may be – that he felt monitored. Nine was the latest he was supposed to take his meds in the morning and like that, Mick would check if he had done so. Ian’s resignation was so obvious and so painful for Mickey, who wished he could prevent evoking those feelings in Ian but on the other hand they both knew that in the end, it all came down just to them. That Mickey and no one else was Ian’s safe harbor. He just meant well and he knew he had to let Ian know he would never treat or look at him patronizingly._

_“Hey, Ian. Look, I’m sure it’s just a cold.” And then he let a smirk get through his voice, traveling the line and reaching Ian’s ear and heart: “I’m sorry, I can’t be with you right now. Snuggle up…rub you warm…make you feel good. Let you be my little spoon…”_

_“Yeah, as if!” and Ian’s smile reached his heart as well._  
_“Okay, I’ll try to get some more rest, make sure I’ll be better tomorrow. Love you Mick. Good night.”_

_“I love you too. ‘night.”_

*****

_The next morning had been awfully busy for Mickey, and gave him his first smoke brake only around 10 o’clock. Taking deep, long needed drags, he tried to call Ian, but didn’t get an answer._

_**M.: Morning sleepyhead. Sorry, work was crazy. Feeling better? Ttyl.** _

_Work stayed crazy with Nykolai making sure to keep Mickey buzzing around until a lunch break 3 hours later. And although Mickey was the last person to let others tell him what to do, he reluctantly put his mobile away when his boss dragged him to a table loaded with pierogis, hot dogs, and some greasy chicken wings, all of it wild combination that made his mouth water. Mickey had pretty fast realized the guy he had to help get his business started, wasn’t as open minded as his cousin, and behaving like a queen, checking in on his wife was the last thing he wanted to give him._  
_Well, those were the days, Mickey thought reflecting that episode in their life. It was a lesson he had to learn. Not giving a shit what others might think but listening to your own feelings. And the incidents that followed made Mickey swear to himself to watch Ian as carefully as needed and if Ian would give him shit about it or feel uncomfortable with it, fine, but he simply couldn’t allow anything like that to ever happen again._

_Ian woke up around 12 am, completely soaked in his own sweat. No question he was feverous. Damn; the cold had caught him. But that’s okay, well actually it’s even good, it got me know, that Mick is away right? Like that, I at least can’t infect him, Ian thought. Drowsily trying to get up, with a pounding head, he swayed over to the bathroom. Looking at the small cabinet with his pills, he thought he must have taken them earlier on; there was no way he could sleep until 12 without needing a piss. Yeah, it must have been like that. He probably just forgot about hit, feeling like shit. After drinking some water from the basin, he sat down at the edge of the bed, contemplating to get up. He didn’t feel like it and he also couldn’t go over to see Yev, so what was he supposed to do? He laid back and reached out for his phone. Seeing, Mickey had reached out to him, made him instantly feel a bit better._

_**I.: Hi. The cold got me. Just glad you won’t catch it from me now. Miss you.** _

_Then he fell asleep again. When a constant ringing at the door woke him up, the sun was already setting and immersed the bedroom in a dim light._

_“Jesus, I’m coming” he croaked. But when he finally reached the door and opened it, he just saw a few boys running away, having a blast from their bell string._

_“Seriously? Bell strings in the Southside, good luck with not getting shot. Fuuuck…” and then he had to run as good as he could being slightly dizzy to the kitchen sink and puked into it._  
_“Oh shit” Ian whimpered. His stomach hurt, his throat felt like fire and he felt embarrassed for the mess he’d done in the kitchen._

_‘Maybe I’m not that good, looking after myself’, he thought and stumbled back up to get his phone. Stopping to take a leak, he was more than devastated looking in the mirror. His face was red as if he had sunburn and his eyes were swollen and slimy. Out of reflex he put his tongue out and there was a rash at his palate._  
_Rolling his eyes, Ian moaned, grabbed his phone and dialed Svet’s number, which was occupied._  
_He thought of drinking something but couldn’t feel the strength to go down to the kitchen again. And by the way, did he clean up the sink? No? Maybe? Everything started to get blurry and Ian fell asleep again. His sleep was deep and when Svetlana called him back he somehow integrated the ringing of his phone in his feverish dream._  
_Svetlana thought about calling Mickey, but a constantly crying little toddler, that had developed reddish brown spots all over his body and wanted to do nothing than scratch on them constantly, demanded all her attention and distracted her from doing so._

_Mickey couldn’t believe to feel that worn out at 7pm without it being from sex. That first day had demanded a lot and he was deadly tired. Reaching over to his phone, eyes already closed, lying at his box bed again, he dialed Ian’s number. Occupied._

_**M.: Geez, Gallagher, hard to get these days. Gonna hop in the shower now. TL.** _

_Getting undressed, Mickey realized he didn’t talk to Svet about Yev and shot her a quick text too._

_**M.: Hey, Ian said, Yev is sick? Nothing serious I hope.** _

_No answer. He dialed Ian again and it was still occupied._  
_“Geez, great you are all busying yourself without me…” and he finally took the hot shower he had been looking forward to all day._

_It was Ian who occupied the line, talking to Svetlana and being told that Yev had the measles and that he shouldn’t come around for a while unless he was sure he had had them before. But Ian was in no condition anyway to come over and the call ended abruptly when Svet had to try her best to calm Yev down again who had gotten furious over the little gloves his mom had put over his hands to avoid the worst scratching. So Ian tried to reach Fiona._

_**I.: Hi Fi, did I have the measles when I was a kid?** _

_**F.: Are you not still a kid? ;o) What ya asking for?** _

_**I.: Yev got them and I can’t visit if I hadn’t had them before.** _

_**F.: Pretty sure, all of us always got everything.** _

_And like that Fiona thought, Ian would still be visiting Yev and Svet the next days just as usual and that they’d realize if something was off. One thing less she’d have to think about._

*****

_It was two days later when Mickey finally had enough from exchanging just a handful of text messages with Ian while they had been separated since the first time in forever and Svetlana only giving him one word answers or cursing why he wouldn’t call the damn Gallaghers to check in on Ian that he called their landline, fearing something might be wrong._  
_Yes, he knew that Ian caught a terrible cold or even the measles, felt sick and had to sleep a lot, but he was so damn anxious Ian might sleep too much, losing his sense of time and forgetting to take his pills. When he had shot him the direct answer yesterday a ‘give me a break’, was all he got back. Mickey cursed himself for being so clingy, but then again, he wasn’t clingy, he actually just took care of his fucking boyfriend, wasn’t that was he was supposed to do? Taking care of each other? Pacing down his little room, Mickey wanted to literally rip his hair off, being torn between calling Ian until he could be convinced everything was fine and just trusting him, giving him some space and not treat him like a baby._

_“Fuck, Ian! Fuck you for making me call your fucking family, judging us again.”_

_At least it was one of the very few Gallagher voices that he didn’t dread that answered his call._

_D.: “Yeah? Debbie here.”_

_M.: “Oh, hey, hi Debs.” being happy that he didn’t catch Fiona or Lip, didn’t make Mickey stop from being nervous. He wiped his sweaty hand on the still dirty work trousers and tried to steady his trembling voice._

_D.”Mickey?”_

_M.: “Yeah, uhm, listen, had Ian been around the last days? Did you see him?”_

_D.:”No. Can’t you reach him?”_

_Fuck, fuck fuck._

_D.:”Mickey? Hey, I’m sure it’s nothing” but he could hear her voice sounding not that secure anymore “look, if you want me to, I can just run over and check what’s up.”_

_M.: “That, that’d be… great. Thanks. Look..it’s just, that, I’ve been so busy working…and..”_

_D.: It’s okay, I’ll call you.” and with that she hang up._

_Mickey paced up and down the room, lit a cigarette, went outside, where it had gone dark already, paced more, smoked more._

_*pling*_

_He nearly got a heart attack, when the message tone ripped him out of his panicking thoughts. Mickey feared to look at the display, scared about what he might read. But when he finally turned his phone, he had been clinging in his sweaty hand, he was more than relieved to see a weird picture popping up. It showed Debbie standing there with a slightly disgusted face in front of her extremely snuffled and fuddled looking brother._

_**D.: Could have warned me, sending me down germs hell.** _

_**M.: What’s up with Ian?** _

_Come on. Answer me Debbie!_

_**D.: Said, he has to take his pills in the morning, not now. I looked and he at least hasn’t drowned them.** _

_Thank god!_

_**M.: Thanks so much Debs!** _

_Totally relived, Mickey ran down to the gas station and got another six pack to calm his nerves. So basically Ian had just gotten sick, like normal sick and had just been too drawn out to contact him much. That’s good. And as if his own thoughts wouldn’t have been reassuring enough, he got another text later that night from Debbie, saying:_

_**D.: Hey Mickey, Ian said something about measles. Not sure if he caught them already, Looked like his freckles only and he said there is no itching. I made him eat a soup and some toast. I’ll send Fi over tomorrow. ‘Night.** _

_Thinking happy thoughts, provoked by Debbie’s message and four cans of beer, Mickey fell asleep, smiling and very much relieved, so relieved that he forgot to put his phone in the charger as he usually did overnight._  
_And the forgotten charger wouldn’t have been the only thing, whipping away his smile if he had only known, that Debbie didn’t tell him, how confused Ian appeared, some people would have called it “disoriented” even. Not only had he not known which day they had – which Debbie blamed on sleeping much – but he also asked her repeatedly where Mickey was – which she blamed on the fever. She was just a teenager who tried her best, helping to cover for her brother when he had started crying over the two day old puke – or well, the remnants of it – that she had to found in the sink. He had begged her under tears not to tell Mickey and she would never break her word, but it freaked her out enough to make Fiona promise to go see Ian the next day. How should she have known, that kid’s diseases are way harder to take for adults than kids, sometimes even putting them in risk of death. And how should she have known that this hadn’t been Ian’s first day on fever, that he was highly dehydrated and off his meds?_

*****

_When Mickey woke up the next morning, his phone being on 3%, he cursed, put it on the charger, but thought it wouldn’t be that bad leaving it in his room that day since Nykolai left him little to no time fumbling at his mobile during work anyway._

*****

_Fiona wasn’t a teenager anymore. And she already made her experiences with BD through her mom, but it was only too bad, that no one had ever cared about educating her about it. Frank had obviously given a shit to understand one bit about it and his eldest daughter was left alone with five younger siblings which didn’t really leave a lot of time googling shit. Otherwise_  
_“Jesus, Ian! What’s the matter with you? Are you aware of the awful smell in here? You are left alone a few days and don’t even try? I am getting so tired of this!” maybe wouldn’t have been her first choice of words to throw at her little brother then._

_After more cursing on her side, confused mumbling on Ian’s side, and a bawling breakdown from both of them, they finally embraced the other one and while she was stroking Ian’s hair she promised Lip would be there soon, to help him get a shower._  
_After that, Fiona was totally exhausted, went outside to lit a cigarette and was going to shoot Mickey a text._

_**F.: Call me asap** _

_But just as she wanted to push “send” some loud commotion distracted her and she hurried back in, to see what happened._  
_Ian had just reached out for a glass but had felt dizzy, stumbled, fell down and took the glass shattering in a million pieces with him on the ground._

_“Woah! What happened?!”_

_“Lip!”_

_“Mickey? You are not Mickey…”_

_“Easy fella, come on, sit down. You wanna drink something?”_

_“I need to. Mickey says it’s important. Where is Mickey? I need to find him.”_

_“Mickey is fine, sit down.” Lip had just gotten there to find Ian sitting on the ground, his sister a crying mess again, broken pieces of glass all around them. Growing up as a Gallagher, he was used to chaos and didn’t miss out to ask the one and only question: “Ian, did you take your meds?”_

_Fiona instantly stopped her sobbing, two pairs of big reddened eyes stared at Lip and he couldn’t have said which one looked more desperate._

_“I don’t remember” Ian nearly inaudibly whispered._

_“Okay, Fi, stay here with him, I go find them” and he rushed up the stairs. Lip was just fumbling through the little cabinet in the bathroom, when a bloodcurdling scream came up to him._  
_Hurrying down again, he was faced with a picture of horror:_  
_Ian stood at the kitchen sink, a long knife in his hand, blood dripping from one wrist, while his other hand clung to an orange._

_“Easy, Ian, it’s all good. Just gimme the knife, yeah?”_

_The next thing Ian remembered was him lying down, some turmoil around him and bright lights above him. Then fog again, and more sleep._

*****

_“Mikhailo! Come here. It’s the end of the week, we’ll have some drinks.”_

_“Okay…when and where do we meet?”_

_And there it was again, the laughter of Father Christmas:_  
_“Nohohoho, Mickey. No construction without Vodka.” And Nykolai pointed to sit down next to him on a pallet._  
_Two hours, several outrageous stories and uncounted shots of vodka later Mickey barely made it to his bed. Nevertheless starting to call Ian’s number, he suddenly got afraid, Ian might get angry with him getting drunk while he had to stay home, being sick, and he put the mobile down._

_**“ Gnight, Gallgher, gonna call yo tomorrow. Love ya.”** _

*****

_He couldn't move his hands, why couldn't he move his hands?_

_“Mickey!?!”_

*****

_Mickey barely remembered how he woke up the next day to 5 missed calls from Fiona, 3 from Lip and a voice message from sobbing Debbie. He also barely remembered how he had gotten back, how he talked whoever in giving him his car, how he managed not to kill himself or anyone else on the 10 hour ride back to Chicago, stopping only when he arrived at the Cook County Community Hospital._

_What he did remember very well though were the unpleasant scenes that unfolded there. So many mutual allegations over something that had actually been a chain of unfortunate events no one was to blame for._  
_But what Mickey did and would always blame Ian’s family for, was accusing their brother of wanting to kill or at least hurt himself. They should have known so much better._  
_What he did blame them for and could never forgive them was the damage they did not only to Ian in general for putting him down in one of the worst mental clinics of Chicago that treated the inmates like prisoners but for the damage that his stay there did to their relationship._  
_It took Ian and Mickey months to find back to their mutual trust and ensuring Ian that Mickey did still trust him and strongly believed a lot of what happened had to do with Ian catching that damn measles, which also made him suffer quite a lot._  
_The two of them spend the weeks after Ian’s hospitalization in complete seclusion from the outside world in their home._  
_Mickey had changed the locks and explained Nykolai that he had to stay home for about three weeks devoting all his time to nurse Ian._  
_It had felt as if he was able to take his first sleep after two weeks when he allowed Svetlana in, to take over a bit after she had threatened with not bringing Yevgeny any more if he wouldn’t let her help the father of her child taking care of himself too._  
_It was a dark and desperate time. But it was also a time of growing, learning, healing and getting closer than ever before._  
_It was a time of saying good bye to ignorant people, them being family by blood or not and deciding that a family you had chosen consciously was what was needed most sometimes._  
_It was a time of decisions that would lay out the path they wanted to take._  
_A time of healing hugs, connecting kisses, wistful whispers and a love as big as an ocean._

**********************

“Mickey?”

“Huh?”

“You haven’t eaten anything, babe, don’t you feel well?”

“Don’t ‘babe’ me” Mickey mumbled halfheartedly, pinched the bridge over his nose and forced himself to a tormented smile for the children, who stared at him with wide eyes, finally quite. 

“Up to bed. And yes, we’ll read something” he hurried to add, realizing Yev’s pleading look.  
When Mickey stood up and rolled his stiff shoulders, eyes closed, Ian carefully approached him. 

“Hey, why don’t you take a shower yourself, once the kids are finished at the bath and then let me read to Yev today. Looks as if you had a rough day, hm?”

This. Him. This was his home. Ian. Ian was where he belonged. Mickey allowed himself to lean against Ian’s chest, taking a deep breath of the scent that grounded him every time. The scent of the man he loved so much; maybe too much and maybe even more than his own life.

“Sounds pretty good. I may join you, ok?”

“Ok” Ian grinned and wrapped his little Mickey in a huge bear hug, taking advantage of his height to sniff Mickey’s hair.  
“I love how you smell.”

“We been knew, you’re weird, Gallagher” Mickey smirked, his eyes shining with love. 

*****  
About 40 minutes later Ian snucked into their bed.  
“Hey, thought you wanted to join us?”

“Yeah, was up to do it, but the two of you looked so content; was good to see him having some alone Daddy time.”  
And that was at least half of what had been going through his mind when he had caught side of them through the ajar door. A lot of Mickey’s mind though was occupied remembering how he had always read to both of them.  
When Yevgeny was still a baby it had felt so strange and in the beginning simply stupid to always talk to him. Mickey wasn’t used to it and he felt like making an idiot of himself as well as talking to him in baby language and talking to him like an adult who would understand what he was talking about. But Sevtlana and Ian always said it would be good to build a connection and good for his brain or something. So once they were alone, Mickey had always taken one of the books Ian had brought home as a hand me down from one of his coworkers and read them to Yev.  
And when Ian was depressed and talking to him was like talking to a wall and after a few days it hurt too much to spill out everything without ever getting a response, it was books again that helped them all not to be swallowed from the eerie silence. 

_“So, uhm, hey I get when my shit is too boring for you to care, Gallagher. Damn, I wouldn’t want to listen to the story of my life. Uhm, look there was this book with all the other stuff you got from your colleague. It’s pretty heavy. Yev would fall asleep a hundred times me reading that to him. So, uhm, I was just thinking, maybe some sorcerer stuff is something you like. Fairytale magic and shit. Yeah, I know, that one was lame. But, uhm , Imma just start and hey, if you feel like complaining, you just say something, okay? Hmm, Ian?”_

_And then he read sitting on the cold floor, his back leaned onto their shabby bed. He had had to learn that once Ian was catatonic he didn’t like to be touched. These phases always made Mickey feel more helpless than ever and the book was something he could cling to. And he did. He clutched the book as if his life depended on it._  
_When the days with a lot of crying came, Mickey was allowed reading next to Ian, who then clenched to him that hard, it often left bruises on Mickey’s pale skin. But Mickey didn’t mind, he always preferred any reaction as painful or heartbreaking as it was over the catatonic Ian, he’d have to stub to assure himself he was still alive. And sometimes he simply had to cry too because everything hurt, inside and out and it was just unbearable and then it was so damn good to pretend they both shed tears about some little boy living under the staircases._

“How come there was no Harry today?” he mumbled half asleep while Ian wrapped his long limbs around him.

“Hmm, we both don’t like to read that without you.”

“Hmmm. ‘kay. Good night Ian.”

“Good night, Mick. I love you”

“Love you too.”

And while the little spoon’s heartbeat got more and more calmer and even, Ian couldn’t help thinking how much Mickey reminded him of Harry Potter: a small dark haired boy, who grew up in an unloving surrounding who must have had someone in his very early days who had planted this breathtakingly beautiful flower of love inside of him that came to bloom whenever he got the chance to take care of his loved ones and which shielded him with an enormous power from everything he had to endure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Mikki, teper potrapyte v mashynu! Міккі, тепер потрапите в машину = Mickey, now get in the car!”
> 
> “Zarady Boha, tilʹky 14-richni divchata tsiluyutʹ bilʹshe, nizh ty” = Заради Бога, тільки 14-річні дівчата цілують більше, ніж ти = “For God's sake, only 14 year old girls are kissing more than you”
> 
> durni lyubovni ptashky = дурні любовні пташки = silly lovebirds
> 
> Since I don't speak Ukrainian and had to do this with google translate I'd be very grateful if someone would like to help me out with a few sentences for the future chapters or let me at least know if the translations here are shit. Thanks.
> 
> But now, as usual, because they are the best: Thanks to my wonderful beta readers! Everything still cringeworthy left is due to me not listening to them ;o) well, or just not being a native English speaker. 
> 
> Thanks to all of you for reading this!  
> Kudos and any kind of commenst are highly appreciated.
> 
> And this is how I imagined Nykolai to look like:  
> 


	6. Mom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey is dreaming about his mommy again and then he gets news from Terry...
> 
> Some music for this chapter:  
> [Parson James - Waiting Game](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=375LKMzWhAs&index=8&list=PLXq8Y6hDjesJtoUaAe2W5lbkKfBgmBgLA)

“Mommy?” 

“C’mere Mickey”. 

He cautiously crawled under her blanket. Mickey tried not to wake anybody and to be very gentle, because he wasn’t sure how much daddy hurt mommy this time. 

“Hmm, you are cold, baby” she gently remarked, her hand caressing his dark hair. Well, his body felt stiff from fear ; the horror they all had just gone through still aching through each and every bone of the four year old. 

Snuggling against his mother, Mickey only distantly heard her whisper: “Did you hide?”

Little Mickey nodded his head lethargically. He leaned against her warm chest as she exhaled deeply. It was a long exhausted sigh full of pain and fatigue.  
She cursed herself for the miserable life she was giving her children. She was so tired of it. She wanted something better for herself and the kids. But she also wanted to make everything right and be a good wife. Something in her still loved Terry. Even though it was probably rather the memory of the Terry she had met 15 years ago, that managed to make her believe that one day everything could get better again if she’d only try hard enough. And as long as this last spark of hope still existed, she simply couldn’t escape the devil's circle of raw violence and neglect. 

“Please, don’t cry Mommy” his tiny voice brought her back to her devastating reality. When her son’s small hand touched her wet cheek her heart swelled simultaneously with happiness and shame and she pressed her precious one tight to her hurting side. 

“But it’s not me, baby, you are bleeding!”

“No, Mommy, it’s you”.

“Baby. Babe! Mickey! Mickey, wake up you are bleeding!” 

“No!” 

No.  
Don’t wake me up. I need to stay with my mom!  
Mom, don’t go! 

“No!” Mickey sobbed, drowsily sitting up, feeling something warm dropping down his face. 

“God, Mickey, your nose is bleeding.” 

Ian was sitting up next to him, eyes wide open, his heart beating just as fast as Mickey’s. 

“Here, take the tissue. No, shhh, don’t lean back, you have to lean forward” 

Ian carefully got closer, leaning in, softly massaging Mickey’s neck. When he planted a tender kiss at Mickey’s temple, Ian realized Mickey was still shaking heavily.

“Jesus, what kind of a nightmare was this?!” Ian anxiously whispered.

“Nothin!” Mickey blurted out, feeling embarrassed and deeply confused. 

“Fuck, Mickey…” Ian sighed, but he shut up instantly when the older and usually tougher man stared at him with his eyes red, breath still shaking. They both were not sure if it was more fury, embarrassment or sheer desperation that came from Mickey when he yelled: 

“I don’t wanna be so fucked up, Ian. Why is everything always fucked? Your brain, my whole life…” 

The look on Ian’s face as if he was just punched in the stomach wasn’t visible to Mickey, who was already fumbling for some cigarettes at his nightstand. Ian was shocked into silence as Mickey cussed:

“Well my brain obviously, too. Shit!” 

“Mickey!” 

“I need some air” and he stormed out of their bedroom. 

**************************

Mickey didn’t get much sleep that night, nor did he feel much like cuddling. His head was spinning like crazy when he got up around 6 o’clock. The knowledge of hurting Ian not only once that night but even twice, made him sick. Ian had followed him out onto the porch after a few minutes, trying to get him back to bed but Mickey just shoved him away. A blurry memory of his dream and a painful feeling in his heart kept him awake nearly all night. He needed something to distract him. 

Ian on the other side awoke to the sound of clothing being folded. He cracked his eyes open carefully, trying to locate the unusual sound. He was still sleepy and not too sure when Mickey had finally gotten back to bed and how he was doing. But when Ian silently lifted himself up a bit to follow the noise he couldn’t have been more surprised: Mickey Milkovich himself was sitting on their bedroom floor bent over a pile of laundry he was trying to fold.  
Ian’s heart instantly filled with warmth and relief that made him crawl out of bed to sit next to his little muffin, nudging his cheek against Mickey’s. He wondered when Mickey got that soft. Oh, how he loved it. How he loved him. 

“Good morning, babe!” he said, tenderly kissing Mickey’s back. 

“Morning” 

“When did you get interested in laundry, hm?”

Oh, well, maybe once I had to man up, taking care of all that shit because you were curled up in bed unable to do anything?!

“Hm?” Ian smiled and a soft kiss was planted on Mickey’s cheek when he realized his ranting answer did not – thankfully – leave his head.  
Why the fuck was he getting so annoyed by Ian? He didn’t want to be like this. Actually he didn’t even truly feel like it but he realized thoughts like that had been popping up in his mind more and more often recently and he was fucking scared they’d soon escape his mouth and hit Ian hard.  
Mickey had managed to deal with all the things life had thrown at them over the past several years. And heaven knew the first time was so difficult and exhausting. After Ian chased him away from the Gallagher’s porch years ago, they had gone through three of Ian’s down phases and even during that time, Mickey did not feel as weak as he did now. He felt feeble, tired, and overburdened. Everything was stirring him.  
Mickey slowly turned around and looked up into Ian’s dark green, sleepy eyes, which made him feel so guilty and still deeply in love. 

He snuggled his head against Ian’s forehead: “I love you”, he whispered, exhausted “didn’t sleep well.”

“Love you too.” Ian smirked back, instantly provoking a little smile on his lover’s lips. 

When Ian embraced him, Mickey found himself burying his head into Ian’s neck taking a long deep breath, just like he had always loved to, secretly, of course. Maybe Ian was into admitting this gay shit, but he still wasn’t.  
Now his head was spinning because he could get high off the smell of his firecrotch and just as he wouldn’t allow anyone to ever change that, he swore to himself that he especially wouldn’t allow his recently fucked up mind to do so. 

“Ian, ….” he wanted to explain, but: 

“Hugging alarm!” was all they heard before their heads smashed together as Yev stormed into the room and leaped onto Ian’s back. He wasn’t that small anymore and took his Dads completely by surprise. 

“Ouch, Yevvi!”

“Tickling attack on Papa” was all Mickey heard through all their laughter, before the two men he loved the most in his life started to tickle the fuck out of him. 

“Okay you muggins stop it now!”  
“No way!” and he got pressed on the floor, Ian on top of him and Yevgeny climbing on Ian’s shoulders. 

“You are killing me! I will get as flat as a flounder!”  
They didn’t stop their attack on Mickey who was now fighting for his breath. Suddenly he realized that all the luck and love he felt washing over him was what made it all worth it. They could have pressed him to death and he would have died happily. It was these moments: early morning, sun shining through their room, all of them together, lighthearted and laughing, that was what he was living for. That’s what kept him going through the darkest hours.  
With all his strength, Mickey managed to rise and they fell off him, still laughing and out of breath, when Yevgeny asked, confused: “What is a flounder, Dad?”  
Ian smiled happily at Mickey, reached out his hand to him, pulled him directly into his arms and started:

“A flounder, sweetie, is something Papa here …” and he grabbed Mickey with pleasure, hands cupping his full butt “will fortunately never be.” and he made sure to close their lips together before Mickey got any chance to answer something sassy.

“Eeww!”

Looking up, still completely giddy, they grinned even harder when they realized the sound of disapproval didn’t just come playfully from their son but also from Mandy. Arms crossed, Katy by her side, she raised her eyebrow the Milkovich way and wondered:

“How come you dickheads are all awake in the middle of the night, huh? And already all giddy, geez…” followed by her typical eye roll and a cute giggle from Katy. 

Ian went over to them, lifted the little girl in his arms and took her and Yevvi down to the kitchen. 

“’n you?” Mickey asked, as he walked past his sister to follow Ian.

“I got a call from Rosa.” she answered cautiously.

Instantly all the lightness was gone. Mickey shivered and felt as if he was drawn into a dark tunnel.

“Why the hell would Terry’s bitch call you?” he grumbled.

“Because he died, Mick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should get the next update on September, 14th... feel free to spoil me with a few kudos & comments until then ;o)


	7. Dad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Mickey's head keeps spinning and everything seems to be a dark mess.  
> We visit the old Milkovich house and meet some more new characters. Yev gets a friend, and who knows, maybe someone else too...
> 
> I recommend to enjoy some Rammstein while listening to it and feel the pain ;o)
> 
> [Rammstein-Mein Herz brennt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dv6Th7kJ64Q&t=0s&index=7&list=PLXq8Y6hDjesKOJwd_bDClz2FCi6nIM84A) 

Mickey always thought that once someone told him Terry had died, it would be the most beautiful sentence he could ever hear. He expected to feel relieved, but instead he just felt unsure. He was not willing to believe the news until he saw that son of a bitch rotting away in front of his own eyes. Frowning, he and Mandy went downstairs to the kitchen. 

“Everything okay, babe?” Ian asked, preparing the kid’s cereal.

“Terry died” Mickey informed him huskily as he walked past Ian to the coffee machine.

Perplexed, Ian looked to Mandy, who just shrugged her shoulders and tried to avoid his gaze as fast as possible.

“Ugh, Mick. What…how? Do you have to go somewhere?“ But as soon as Ian tried to get close to Mickey, he just got a grumpy:

“Yeah, gotta go take a piss!”  
and when he squeezed past Ian he could hear an annoyed “Dad!” by his son followed by both kids giggling.  
As he hurried to the bathroom, their laughter became more muted, as if covered by a cloud. When he reached the bath, Mickey had to lean against the door as soon as he was able to close it behind him, feeling dizzy. He pinched his fingers against his temples and wondered why he felt so dazed. It really shouldn’t matter to him what happened to that abusive joke of a father and yet…yet he felt the same numbness that had gotten hold of him when his mother died. Mickey forced himself to breathe in and out, long and deeply. He desperately wanted his legs, well his whole body, to stop shaking. But everything around him seemed to turn and he felt as if he was being sucked into a black vortex.  
He pressed his trembling hands against his eyes and cursed himself when he realized his cheeks felt damp. Thinking of his mother again, remembering how hollow, lost and despaired her death had made him feel for months and months and what her loss had triggered in Terry, made Mickey feel sick and he finally leaned over the toilet, dry-heaving. 

“Fuck. The fucker is finally gone. Get your shit together, man.” he tried to tell himself, rubbing his eyes and cheeks furiously when he heard a well-known voice carefully asking for him and a cautious knocking at the door.

“Mick? You all right?”

„Why shouldn’t I be, huh, Gallagher?!“ he claimed, storming out of the bath, hoping his voice didn’t sound nearly as shaky as he still felt, while he desperately tried not to meet Ian’s worried eyes. 

“Probably should throw a damn party for this prick’s death. I finally got rid of him!”  
But the moment the sore words left Mickey’s mouth, he knew getting rid of the body would be the easy part but there was so much more of Terry that would probably always remain a part of him, no matter how hard he tried to get rid of it. Everything his father had planted in his children’s subconscious would stay with them for a long time if not until their own deaths. And Mickey knew just too well that Terry’s poison would be hunting him down with every decision he had to make in his life, trailing him down every single night. His father had made damn sure he could never be truly free. As much as Terry Milkovich had never cared for his children, he made sure to scare them to the bones, providing them with the kind of instability, self-doubt and fear that you wouldn’t even wish for your worst enemy. 

Mickey rushed to get his coffee, sat down at the kitchen table and quickly reached over to Katy, getting her out of her chair and into his arms. He sat her down on his trembling leg, holding her close as if he had to protect her from her granddad.  
Ian sat down next to Mandy and took her hand, painfully aware that he would just be brushed away now if he touched Mickey in any way. 

“Daddy?”

The quivering voice of his son made Mickey jerk his head up from Katy’s hair where he had been burying his eyes.  
In spite of his unsteady voice, Yevgeny looked straight into his father’s eyes, empathetically, he moved closer and gave him the most powerful hug he had ever given someone in his young life.  
Katy snuggled even closer to them both and Mandy leaned against Ian’s shoulder, crying silently.  
She didn’t shed any tears for their father though. It was relief on the one hand and compassion for her brother on the other. Having to witness again how Terry was able to get control over Mickey and hurt him even from the grave bed opened so many wounds. It made her painfully aware of all their scars, caused by physical abuse and emotional neglect.  
During their most formative years, the only person they knew they could never ever trust, was the person who should have cared the most for them. While they grew up, all the Milkovich kids became experts in pretending: pretending not to be hurt, pretending not to feel any pain, pretending not to care, whereas their souls were longing for so much more. Their fragile hearts were longing for love, honest interest and attention. And the only love, interest and attention they ever got was one no child should ever experience.  
And now, after their long, devastating journey, after all the development they had still managed, it rushed over them and crushed them once again.

They all jumped at the sudden knock on the door.  
Who could that be on a Saturday morning?  
All of a sudden, Yevgeny seemed to realize who it could be: 

“I’ll get it!” he shouted out a bit nervous, his cheeks blushing slightly.

Ian followed slowly behind, swallowing hard when he saw out of the corner of his eye how Katy just dried Mickey’s eyes with her little hands.  
Yev stood, slightly embarrassed, in the doorway while a boy around his age and a sturdy, friendly looking guy, who was probably his father, smiled happily at him. 

“Hey, Tyler.”

“Yev.”

“Hey, good morning!” his father now stepped in, holding his hand out to Ian who had positioned himself in full height behind Yevgeny.  
“I’m sorry, we just intruded on your morning freedom, but my son here, Tyler, had told me that Yev might want to come with us to play soccer. Oh, sorry, I’m Bobby”

“Ian. Well, uhm, it wasn’t peaceful, we…sorry, you wanna come in, Bob?”

“Bobby.” the guy laughed loud and open and Ian realized how attractive he was, with his eyes crinkling at the edges.  
“No complications, we’ll just wait here if Yev wants to come, huh, buddy?”

Yevgeny looked up to Ian “Can I go, Dad? Or is it…today…”

“No, sure. Sure you can go. Just didn’t know you were interested.” Ian replied, feeling both confused and helpless as he shot a glance at Bobby, who stepped in:  
“Yeah, sometimes is hard to catch up with them, huh?” and he smiled broadly towards Ian.  
“No need to worry. We are right around the corner, at Douglas Park Soccer Fields. I walk them there; stay there and walk them straight back to your door again. Just like a good helicopter mom” and a beautifully warm and carefree laughter filled the morning air. It touched Ian’s face like a ray of sunlight, trying to melt away the ice cold darkness dripping through from their house.

Ian felt his eyes stinging and he blinked fast when Tyler gave his Dad a slight push with his elbow: “Dad!“

„Huh?“

„Well, you know what I asked you. Hm, Mr Gallagher, sir, if that’s okay, Yev could come to our house after the training. I would like to show him a new game I got.”

And it seemed as if the sunlight had been able to warm Ian’s mind after this dreadful morning, and he couldn’t help but smile:  
“You don’t have to ‘Sir’ me, Tyler. It’s just Ian and I think somehow today might just be perfect. Okay you two just wait here for a sec then, ok? I just have to check if it’ll really work out and we’ll go grab some sport stuff, right, Yev?”

When Ian and Yev turned inside and closed the door behind them, they both got startled seeing Mickey leaning on the sofa, from where he had obviously followed the little conversation outside.

“Come here.” he waved towards Yev  
“You wanna go with that guy?” and Mickey held his son’s shoulder, looking him deep in the eyes.  
“Then you go. Ian and I might have to go over to…Rosa’s and work some stuff out. Take the key with you, ok? And be back by six at the latest! Ian, make sure you let that Grizzly know about that, ’kay?” and kissing his son at the top of his head, Mickey shambled back to the kitchen table, getting another coffee, frowning, sighing and obviously fighting again with his thoughts. 

“Grizzly” Ian thought, while he was filling a small water bottle, waiting for Yev to get his stuff together. He loved Mickey’s nicknames and despite everything that happened, he had to smile again at the realization of how perfect the name was for Bobby. He was huge and strong but also looked very protective, rather than intimidating, and his deep voice was soft. Ian decided he felt good about letting their son leave with Bobby and Tyler, who both seemed to be nice guys.  
After they had exchanged their mobile numbers a few minutes later there seemed to be at least one thing they wouldn’t have to worry about for a few hours. 

Mickey nearly stayed home, figuring there wouldn’t be much to do at Terry’s house anyways but Mandy had made it clear that Rosa had wanted them to get some stuff and he really wanted to make sure their father was actually dead.  
But walking now harshly towards Trumbull Avenue, holding Katy tightly by the hand, he again nearly turned back, telling himself that he probably wouldn’t see his rotting father at the house, laying at the …Fuck. That goddamn sofa. His eyes started burning again and he unknowingly tightened the grip at Katy’s wrist even more, which made her cry out. 

“Fuck, Mick!” Mandy shouted at him, waving her daughter towards her.

They all jolted to a halt for a second before Mickey turned away from them all and began to walk away quickly. Mandy pushed Ian to get him.  
Ian had trouble keeping up with Mickey and the girls were slowly falling back. Mickey rushed through the streets, as if he wanted to get everything done as quickly as possible.

“Mickey. Hey Mick!“

But Mickey kept staring forwards, a disturbing feeling rising inside him, telling him he would probably yell, cry, break down or hit Ian and wouldn’t be able to move a single step forward anymore if he stopped right now. 

But Ian had enough. He had felt left out the whole morning. And – what was probably even worse – it felt like years ago. It felt as if the old – well younger – Mickey was back. The closeted thug with all the walls around him. All these goddamn walls, Ian had to climb and break down year after year, chasing after Mickey, chasing after the love of his life who he seemed to be losing again and he wasn’t willing to let that happen.  
“Fuck Mickey! Look at me! I am here with you! And Mandy. And goddamn, Mickey, at least try to stop scaring the shit out of Katy.” He sighed, his voice getting more and more quiet, after literally spitting the first commands in Mickey’s face, towering over him now, making sure he’d have to stop.

And Mickey stopped. They looked at each other. And Ian’s heart felt like a burning lava ball, destroying him from inside, heating up his face in shame.  
That look. It brought back everything. Everything he had ever done to Mickey.  
_“You can’t fix me. Cause I’m not broken, I don’t need to be fixed. I’m me!"_  
And when the first tear slowly crawled from Mickey’s eye, past his reddened nose, just to be stuck for a second at Mickey’s swollen, shivering lips, they both couldn’t care less if they were standing in the middle of a South Side Street in the light of day. They knew, without holding each other right now, without grounding each other through the touch of their skin, they would burn in pain and fall to ashes. 

“I got you, Mickey. We are in this together.” catching Mickey’s neck, Ian planted a soft kiss on wet lips. And when they stood there, foreheads against each other, being hugged by the girls who had caught up to them, they knew they could make it.  
They would make it, just as they always had. Together.

 

*****************************

The distinctive smell hit Mickey right in the gut.  
It still smelled like all the childhood trauma of every memory Mickey had of this living room. Only it did not look like it used to, which made it even more confusing.  
Mickey sat at a clean living room table that had never been there before, facing the reason for all the changes: Rosa.  
Former parole officer then, well what, lover, girlfriend of his late father. When Mandy told him about her for the first time, he simply didn’t believe anyone would be stupid enough to care about his dad and at the same time be badass enough to face him at all.  
Well, he didn’t know about the stupid, but sitting face to face with Rosa, Mickey instantly knew that she definitely owed “badass”.  
Rosa was a beautiful woman: tall, agile, dark curly hair, a wrinkled face. But different than other woman her assumed age, her wrinkles didn’t make her look old or worn out but her face told everybody that she knew something about life. Every inch of her delicate bone structure seemed to tell you that she made many experiences and mistakes in her life and that she had definitely learned from them, having seen and knowing more than anybody looking at her could probably face.  
Mickey remembered that it was probably around three or two years ago when she contacted Mandy for the first time and since that time she wanted to meet them, all of them. And that, well that was something Mickey would definitely never allow. Never ever in his whole live did he ever want to step inside 1955 Trumbull Avenue again and he had sworn to himself to protect Ian with his life from having to do so as well. And yet here they were, but at least it had taken the end of Terry’s life to get them there, so it was probably okay in a weird way Mickey thought, realizing he was drifting off. But maybe he was just trying to avoid the warm-hearted look Rosa was giving him. 

“I am so glad that we could finally meet, Mickey. Ian. The surroundings are harsh, but I finally feel as if the puzzle Terry always told me about fits together with all of you. Katy?” and she smiled friendly towards Katy, who, very much to both Mickey’s and Ian’s horror, didn’t hesitate to jump right into Rosa’s lap.

“Puzzle, huh?” Mickey grunted as unfriendly and annoyed as possible.  
“Don’t think my father ever even touched one of those. And definitely would have never blurred out shit like that.”

While Mandy and Ian looked at each other a bit embarrassed and Katy played absentmindedly with Rosa’s long curls, the later only smiled knowingly at Mickey and said, slightly amused and with a very warm and friendly voice: “No, he definitely wasn’t into board games” which already had Mickey’s head jerking up and when she continued after a short pause “and we all know that” she had him.  
He wasn’t able to tell what it exactly was, but the way she said it – not shy, not trembling, not insecure at all but with a hint of disgust even – made it abruptly clear to him that she had never been afraid of Terry.  
And that was more than he could say of any other adult in the room.

Rosa opened the soda she had placed beforehand on the table and handed a little glass to Katy.  
“So, the reason why I wanted you to come here is Terry’s Legacy.”

“Yeah, no shit. The only legacy that motherfucker ever could have left us are debts. Just tell me, where he is now and what to do about the funeral service. Guess you know which of his Nazi friends he wants us to invite, huh?”

“Mickey!” Ian tried to stop his boyfriend who was getting into a rage, unable to sit still any longer. Mickey walked up and down the small room, both hands in his hair. 

“Well, yes, I know who to invite, Mickey.” And the way Rosa said his name, miraculously made Mickey stop. “And you don’t have to worry about any costs. This is taken care of”.

“The state?” Mandy timidly asked. 

„No, hun. We both took precautions in case of our“ and she looked at Katy and finished with “last days”.

“Precautions,” Mickey mumbled, shaking his head but sitting down again. “You sure you haven’t been living in here with someone other than Terry Milkovich?”

“Yes, dear, I am.” And Ian noticed how Mickey cringed at being addressed like that. Ian knew that it was starting to get to Mickey that Rosa wasn’t losing her patience.  
When she stood up to get something, Ian finally got hold of Mickey’s hand and was relieved that it wasn’t pushed away. On the contrary, Mickey seemed to finally remember who had been his anchor every time he needed to be grounded. Mickey closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe steadily.

 _Ian. Let’s concentrate on Ian. It’s okay. It’s okay to be here with him. Don’t. Don’t freak out. This room means nothing._

His breathing got faster but then he felt a slight stroking over the back of his hand. Opening his eyes again, Mickey was rewarded with a reassuring sweet smile, full of love. They had this. Together they would make it.

Mickey couldn’t help but notice the short look Mandy and Rosa exchanged but was instantly distracted with an envelope Rosa placed on the table. 

“You father wanted you to have this.” 

And when neither Mandy nor Mickey took the envelope, she opened it and pulled out a picture of a beautiful, young woman. She was dark haired and had cute, delicate freckles around her nose. And it was Ian who broke the silence after all:

“Oh my God, Mick, is that…your mom?” and the way his hand was now pressed almost hurtfully told him the answer was “yes”.  
While Mickey had turned his head and blinked hectic, Ian took the picture with his other hand. 

“She was so beautiful. Just like the three of you.” 

But since that just earned him a puzzled look from Katy and Mandy’s eyes to fill with tears, Mickey eventually pulled his hand free to press his fingers against his nose. Rosa spoke up, making sure to ultimately getting to the point.  
“Well, actually you were right, Mickey and this is also about your mother Katherine’s legacy not just Terry’s.”  
Rubbing his face forcefully, Mickey missed the second look Rosa and Mandy exchanged. Ian noticed though and all of a sudden he felt a cold chill running down his spine. He had walked into this meeting more or less unconcerned, now hat Terry was dead. Sure did he had painful memories of the Milkovich house and specifically the living room, but strangely enough it didn’t trigger him that much. What happened in here years ago, no matter how horrible it was, was over. Ian had had to find peace with it, or it would have broken him a long time ago.  
However, he’d only succeeded to do so with professional help and he could only guess how traumatizing this whole get together had to be for both Mickey and Mandy who had suffered in this house so much for so many years.  
God knows, he had tried to convince Mickey to talk to a therapist again and again, but that simply wasn’t he Milkovich way to deal with problems. And because of that Mandy had never been a huge help when he was trying to touch this subject. And then, after a while, after they seemed to had settled and were living in their bubble, it was simply forgotten.  
Forgotten. Ian felt sick. Could it honestly be, him and Mandy had FORGOTTEN about Mickey’s suffering? He didn’t blurt his feelings out to them and therefore no one cared? Just like that? All on his own? No. No, no, no! Ian DID care about Mickey. He just, he…. And all of a sudden Mickey was no longer the only one who felt like he was spiraling down. 

Rosa continued:

“Katherine inherited some money from her parents.”

Mandy and Mickey exchanged looks and they both knew that the other one was thinking _‘Thanks dad, for drinking any money we may have ever had, away’_ since they were both instantly convinced it must have been long gone, otherwise there would have been no reason for them to live in gruesome poverty all the years. 

“The way I understood Terry, your mother was able to conceal it from him until she died. And since it was somehow fixed and he had been in a terrible state of mind after her death, he – and I know how this sounds, but that’s the way he explained it to me – he simply forgot about it.”

This time Rosa expected an outburst from Mickey, a sarcastic laugh, anything but it simply made her feel sorry looking at the young man who looked all hollow and more in shock than anything else.

_‘Terrible state of mind’ yes, it was terrible. For his children. He let it all out on us! Mickey wanted to cry out. That’s when it began, when it had all gone down. When the beatings got extreme and when he, he, when dad started visiting his own daughter in the middle of the night. ___

__This time Ian got up, only to kneel down next to Mickey’s chair, rubbing his leg carefully and comforting at the same time, his other arm stretched out, to squeeze Mickey’s shoulder.  
“Mick? Please, Mickey, breathe slowly. Mickey look at me. Please try to breathe deep and slowly” Ian nearly pleaded, feeling this whole situation would get out of control soon. _ _

__And when Katy timidly changed from Rosa’s to her mother’s lap and asked “Mommy, what’s up with Uncle Mickey?” and Mandy threw her head back, moaning “God!” Rosa knew she had to get it over with:_ _

__“When we started to take said precautions we came across your mother’s legacy and it opened up a lot of old and very deep wounds in Terry, and…”_ _

___And the fuck what?! _Something was screaming inside Mickey’s head while he sat there, his eyes growing wider and wider in sheer disbelief over this whole situation, his breathing leading him directly towards hyperventilation. _Why the fuck didn’t he come after us this time then, hu?!? Why did he stay away from us the last couple of years instead of coming over with his fucking old and deep wounds and finally finished his job to fucking kill me?!? Why?___ _ _

____“…and I think he wanted to compensate at least some of his…” and for the first time Rosa stopped and seemed to be insecure but no one around her noticed “wrongdoings” she carefully chose to say. “and he made sure that the money from Katherine’s parents would go to his youngest child”  
and while she firmly pressed Mandy's hand, the last word Mickey heard before he lost control was “Katy.”_ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you can see how I imagine our new characters to look like: 
> 
> Rosa:  
> 
> 
>  Bobby:  
> 
> 
> And these are 8yo Yevgeni and Katy:  
> 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think about them and their story. THANK YOU!
> 
> Tyler:  
> 


	8. Porch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to the break up on the porch and what I wish would have happened: Sammie not running by but our boys having an overnight heart-to-heart...
> 
> "All I want is nothing more, to hear you knocking at my door"  
> [Kodaline - All I want](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cqJoVlnmdFQ&list=PLXq8Y6hDjesKOJwd_bDClz2FCi6nIM84A&index=8)

„I love you!“

„What does that even mean?”

“It means we take care of each other.”

“I don’t want you sitting around, worrying, watching me; waiting for me to do my next crazy shit.”

“It means thick and thin, good times, bad, thickness, health, all that shit.”

“You gonna marry me? We gonna go down to the court house in some tuxes like a couple old queens?”

“Fuck you!”

“No thanks. I’ve already done that.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Too much! Too much is wrong with me. That’s a problem, isn’t? Too much is wrong with me and you can’t do anything about that. You can’t change it. You can’t fix me. ‘Cause I’m not broken. I don’t need to be fixed, okay!? I’m me!”

“This is it. Is this you, breaking up with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Really? Fuck.”

“Go, Mick. Leave me alone.”

“No way! No way, Gallagher! Don’t you dare…. Ian?”

“Go find someone else for that puppy look. I’m not worth it.”

“The fuck are you talking about?!”

“No, Mick.”

“Don’t…!”

Don’t. Again hanging in the air. Leaving Mickey behind. On his own. Although this time, Ian isn’t really gone, he just closes the goddam door! Right into Mickey’s face! Why is he acting like that? And finally anger takes over Mickey’s emotions and he is able to move, he jumps up the few steps and bangs at the door. He bangs and shouts and acts crazy as if his life depends upon it. And it does. He realizes, it does. His life depends on Ian Gallagher, more precisely: it depends on him being together with Ian Gallagher. He screams, screams at the top of his lungs. And then he feels them. Hot. And then he smells them. Salty. And his fists go on banging, but they start to tremble. And to bleed. He bleeds and he cries. And just as he starts to use his head, too, he feels that someone drags him away from the door and tries to hold him, but he fights and struggles and is obsessed to bang and yell and cry for Ian. Ian! He needs Ian!   
The pain hits him. There is more blood and then Mickey loses consciousness. 

*************

When Mickey wakes up, his nose hurts. He is lying in his bed and his head also hurts. He tries to get his mind together. What the fuck happened? How did he get there? And then….then his heart drops. Everything around him freezes, it’s getting dark and cold and he feels, practically sees, how his heart falls and falls deeper and deeper through a black tunnel until it hits the ground and the pain is unbearable. Mickey clenches his bed sheet with both fists; he crumbles and wants to yell. He wants to cry as loud and angry as he can, but there is no sound. Not a single sound escapes his wide opened mouth, when an unbearable silent cry leaves his pained face. 

***************

“Hey, Mick.” Mandy greats him with a careful tone in her voice, not sure what reaction to expect from her brother, if one at all.

“How’d I get here?” he asks, sounding so hollow it makes her shiver. They sit down at the small kitchen table, she shoves a beer across, and her brother holds onto it with shaking hands. 

“Kev brought you home a few hours ago.” She stops to see if there is any reaction to that or a flicker of remembrance of what happened. Little does she know that he remembers just too well.

“Uhm, Fiona called him, I guess, since you…” but there was no reason to go on. Mickey’s grief filling the whole room like an impenetrable cloud, threatening to suffocate them both.  
Mandy’s desire to embrace him had never been bigger. And after a minute that felt like eternity during which her brother’s eyes burned a hole in the shabby kitchen floor, he looks up, slowly, calm, teary eyed and more hurt than any of Terry’s beatings were ever able to achieve.   
He was simply broken.   
None of them knew if his shattered pieces could ever be put together again. And Mandy just has to do the first step in gluing them together by wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly. And then something happened that she had never experienced before: her big brother cries in her arms. He sobs and buries his face in her neck. It feels so strange and wrong and in the same moment so completely right. They are both breathing heavily and Mickey can feel her heartbeat on his cheek, solid and comforting.  
A heart means life. His life; and Ian’s. Lives he has to take care of; lives he wants to go on; together.   
And all of a sudden and as abrupt as it had started, Mickey stops crying. With an embarrassed smile, he wipes his nose on his shirt, burps and gets up. 

“Mick,where…?

“Where in my whole life can I go where he wouldn’t be, Mandy?”

 

******************

It’s cold. His sore hands hurt in the freezing cold. But Mickey doesn’t’ feel the harsh early winter temperature. The heat of destination is rising inside of him. He needs to go and talk to Ian. He will speak and explain everything to him as long as it takes for Ian to understand that Mickey will always be there for him; through thick and thin. God, he already always has. How can Ian not see this?   
Although he is running, Mickey feels a certain peace. Maybe it’s because he is finally at peace with himself. After all these years, after all the hiding, denying and pretending to be what his father wants him to be, Mickey accepts himself and his love for Ian. He is so sure about what to do that it lets him relax somehow, although his body is tense to the fingertips. When you rest in yourself there is no need to be angry or aggressive. You just do what you have to do and say what you have to say. That’s it.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Mickey mumbles as he gets to the Gallagher house. This time he heads straight to the rear entrance, sure the door will be open as usual and hoping that he may get in before Fiona or Lip get in his way.   
Strangely enough, everything seems to be empty as Mick enters the house carefully. And it’s quiet; quiet in a way this house usually never is and Mickey instantly starts to panic. What if something is wrong with Ian and they are all at the hospital?! His hearts begins to race and he storms up the stairs to Ian’s room. The door is closed. He hesitates. What if he jumps in and the room is empty? Or what if…? Desperate, he throws himself against the door but it is locked and does not give way.

“Ian?” that goddamn door was never locked.

“Ian? Are you in there? Are you ok?” Mickey nearly doesn’t hear the soft rustling of the bedding due to his heavy breathing and the pulsating of his pulse in his ears. But he is there, right? His fingers sliding along the door Mickey sits down on the floor and tries to calm his breathing.

“Ian. Please let me know if you are okay.” is that a mumble?

“Ian. Are you alone? Where is everybody?” and after again minutes - and actually it's just seconds, but they seem like an eternity to him - pass without an usable answer, Mickey gets frustrated. 

“Okay. Don’t tell me, I don’t bother about them anyway, but, listen man…I bother about you, okay? You, you can’t just walk away, Ian. Not this time. Not again. Hey, you hear me? Ian, I…”

“They are at Vee’s house; party.”

WHAT?!?! Mickey isn’t sure if he can’t believe what he just heard because he didn’t expect to finally hear Ian’s voice or if it’s just too unbelievable what Ian just said. Even if Ian may not be as upset as he is right now, Mickey thinks, he sure was in a troubling state of mind in the morning, on the porch. And of course the only thing his stupid family can think of, is leaving him alone and partying. God, Mickey is so angry and he wants to just jump against the door and tear it down and he has no doubt he could do so but he also knows, that this is definitely not the way to make Ian listen to him. No, no this time he will try and explain. After all, an empty house is not the worst if you are going to burst out your feelings against a closed door, right?  
So Mickey leans his right side to the door, his mouth facing towards the keyhole. Fuck, it’s now or never. Who knows when the rest of the damn bunch comes back or if Ian falls asleep, bored of this drama.  
Mickey takes a deep breath and tries to talk as steadily as possibly in this confusing situation:

“Look, I thought about what you said about you not being broken, and, and maybe you are right. I mean , shit I guess, somehow everyone is a bit broken I’d guess, but, but that’s not the point, I…I don’t’ want to argue with you, it’s just that..I…I think, no, listen Ian, I know: I am broken.” And he has to let go a long breath, his head leans against the door now and he can feel his eyes starting to fill with tears. And a little quieter, but loud enough so that Ian can hear him through the door, he speaks for the first time about something that torments him since years.

“I’m pretty sure, I broke when my mom died.” God, why did he choose to go that path? Mickey feels like he can’t do this. It would be so easy to just get up, go away, get some drinks and try to forget Gallagher. But he knows, there are other things, he can’t ever forget or get over with, because no one ever cared to help, or just listened if not trying to fix him.   
And apart from that, he would never be able to withstand a breakup with Ian.   
He closes his eyes and tries to continue, when all of a sudden there is this voice again:

“You never told me what happened.” it almost sounds like a reproach, hurt, but definitely interested.

“Yeah. I…” no he can’t say ‘I couldn’t’ although he wasn’t able to do it, whether to Ian or anybody else. But if he puts it this way, it’s going to sound as if he wasn’t trusting Ian enough or was just too closed. And Mickey knows he will only break through to Ian if he presents himself like an open book, ready for Ian to read whatever page he wants to skip over. And he wants to be open to Ian. He had wanted to be for a long time, Ian just had this effect on him anyway, but sometimes it is still too unfamiliar to him and he fucks things up. But not his time. It’s now or never and Mickey can’t risk to shy away.

“It hurts so much, Ian. I loved her” and the first tear runs down his cheek. But there is also a sound right next to the door. At first Mickey’s heart jumps, thinking Ian might let him in but it seems as if he just sat down on the other side of the door and a slight, dull thud indicated that Ian might have also leaned his head against it.   
Why did they always have to have barriers between them? How long should this continue?   
But right now, Mickey just consumes being here with Ian. Just a few hours ago, the unspeakable had been uttered and he is nevertheless here, at the Gallagher house, talking to Ian and right now that is all he needs to be assured that Ian does not want to break up with him. And he doesn’t want to break up with Ian. God, he was so relieved when Ian came back. Mickey just wants them to be together again, going on from where they had been before the MP took Ian. Fuck!

“Did she love you? Was she a good mom?” he hears him ask in a tear-stained voice. And it takes Mickey a second to realize that he had gotten lost in his thoughts.

“What? Yeah, yes, momma was a good mom. And once upon a time Terry was not the worst father of the South Side. He loved her, they loved each other and I guess…I guess at some point, when we were very young Terry even loved us.”  
By telling what he had been carrying in his heart for so long the spell was broken and the dam breaks, with tears running uncontrolled over his face, Mickey continues:  
“He got me this little package of plastic soldiers. And god knows he wasn’t the dad to kneel down on the floor and play with me, but I remember, I remember that he was sitting on the couch and he told me something about the Second World War.”

And all of a sudden Ian understands. He understands that it is not only fear Mickey always feels when he is confronted with his father. It’s memories like this, something he clung to for all these years in the hope it might not have been completely lost. It’s not just fear, which makes Mickey want to please his dad. In this moment, with both of them crouched down at the dirty carpet of the Gallagher house, their faces over flown with tears, heads against the old door of the kid’s room, Ian realizes that Mickey also always tries to please his dad because of the deep longing to gain this man back, the father who was once able to love him. Mickey longs so much for love. A love he just knew for a very short time, but in this short time it was planted deep down in his heart and it was his secret torch that he had never allowed to become extinguished completely.   
All of a sudden, Ian realizes where the caring and deep love from Mickey was able to come from. Sometimes he had wondered himself about it and Ian knew that Fiona and Lip never understood how Mickey was able to feel anything at all, ever. But know he was able to understand. His Mickey did have some happy moments. And maybe they were just small ones over a short period of time. But the love he experienced must have been so fundamental, that it had been able to carry him through all these horrendous years.   
Mickey hears Ian noisily pulling his nose up.

“It’s not as if they never fought, but it was just the normal stuff I guess. I mean, you probably just fight sometimes having kids but not a lot of money, right? But one winter there was literally no money and therefore no heating and mom got sick. And dad…Terry, probably got frustrated. I dunno, I just remember that he drank more than before and mom asked him how he could manage to pay for the alcohol and that we needed something to eat and day after day she begged him to give her some money and day after day he got more and more angry and mom couldn’t change the situation because her cold had turned into a nasty pneumonia. Well, that’s what they told us, afterwards at least.   
She was so weak and when she tried to get up she always got dizzy. Mandy and I stayed in bed most of those days, trying to keep each other warm. I thought it wasn’t fair that mom had given us all the blankets when she needed them more for herself and I wanted to keep her warm. And I thought we should all three lay in bed together. And…”

And he needed a second to pull himself together. 

“One night I snuck up to her bed but she got angry and scolded me for risking infection and leaving Mandy. Damn…” Mickey had to clench his fists together and pressed his head against the door as hard as he could. The pain the memories bring back is almost unbearable.

“What happened?”

“One day dad came back with some groceries and mom was so happy and she tried to hug him …and…he shoved her away a bit and it probably wasn’t even hard, but she was so sick and dizzy and stumbled and …”  
And they were both heavily crying now: Mickey facing this horror again for the first time in his life and telling out loud what happened. And Ian with his aching heart, not able to simply open the door because he was so torn between wanting to hold Mickey and comfort him and on the same time wanting to stay away from him, sure that he would and still had only added to his pain. And he had to concentrate not to miss Mickey’s mumbled words that were hard to understand through his sobs.

“She crashed her head against the edge of the dresser and when she landed we could tell she wasn’t breathing. There was blood everywhere. Mandy yelled and I…I peed my pants, Ian. I was so fucking scared. When dad saw what I did he took me and threw me in the bedroom and from that moment on, he was never the same again.   
From that moment on I felt like I didn’t belong there anymore, like I didn’t belong at all. You know, like something was missing. And now that I found that…that I found you… I don’t wanna let you go. Not again”

“Then don’t.”

Did Ian really say that? Or did he just wish he heard that? Ian answered so surprisingly fast and certain. Damn he isn’t sure because right now the front door of the Gallagher home is opened and Fiona and Debbie come in laughing and giggling.

“Iaaaan? Sweetheart, we are home!”

Fuck. Ok, he is definitely not going to blurt out his feelings in front of them especially not after getting shit for being here. 

“Ian? Ian, listen. I’ll call you, ok. I’m…” and then he has an idea. He simply can’t risk Ian not answering the phone in a few minutes.   
“Hey, Ian, get your phone.” and Mickey prays Ian has it with him in the room. And yes, there it is, he can hear it vibrating on the nightstand.

“???”

“Hey, mumbles” Mickey says while he is getting up and he is sure he can feel Ian smiling softly through the phone.  
“I will talk to you from now on for as long as it takes me for you to come back to me.” Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have put it that way.   
“Look, for whatever kinda reason you obviously think I can’t be trusted or I am not worth it or…”

“I’m not worth it. Never was, Mick.”

“No! No way, don’t be stupid. I mean, fuck, come on, don’t say that!” and Mickey is still standing with his head against Ian’s door when panic rises in him and he hears someone approaching the stairs.

“Listen, please listen to me Ian. We’ll work this out, ok? You and me, together. All you have to do is please listen to me, ok? Can you do that?” he is asking while running down the stairs, pushing a perplexed Debbie to the side and escaping through the back door. 

“Can you do that…babe?” and the cold turns his pet name into soft white smoke, followed by nerve-wracking silence. But then he gets redeemed: 

“Hmmm. Gonna hypnotize me?” 

Is that a tease? Could it be Ian is trying to be cheeky? Mickey stops under a lantern for a moment and while looking into the starry sky, he is not sure if it's the tears or the fog that make everything look blurry. Closing his eyes, Mickey trembles with relief. There he is again, his sassy redhead, love of his life. 

 

“Is it snowing yet?”

“No, Gallagher, it’s just freezing cold. ‘You in bed?”

“Yeah.” Ian sighs, and after a moment he adds: “I’d like to have a fireplace. Once. In my house.”

“Don’t you even have one, now?” Mickey is asking while he hurries to get back to his house, grab something to eat, or at least drink and then get himself warm in his own bed.   
“Ian?” 

“Yeah. I was just thinking…trying to remember if we ever used it. Don’t think so” and he sounds incredibly sad.

“Well, it would probably just stink, anyway.”

“Hmmm. Imagine. Sitting in front of one. A proper one; that’s not stinking. Just rom…”

“fucking gay?” and they both have to laugh a little.   
“Hey, Ian, I’m home. Listen, did you eat anything today? And no! I can see your eyes rolling through the phone , Army. C’mon” he softly adds “can you get a toast or something? And you gotta stay hydrated. Okay. Promise?”

“Mick. How come I tell you something about a cozy fireplace and you just patronize me? Huh?” and Ian sounds so annoyed that Mickey is afraid that he might hang up. 

“Patro—what the fuck? Don’t say shit like that, Ian. I’m…” and after stumbling out of his jacket without letting loose of the mobile and grabbing a bottle of beer from the fridge Mickey hurries to hop inside his bed and stay calm and to not be too pushy. He can’t risk losing Ian again.   
“I’m just saying, I don’t want to stop talking for you in a while and I got myself a beer and why don’t you just get yourself something too, huh?” Mickey spreads his hand over his forehead and massages his temples. Fuck. C’mon Ian. Damn, why do I have to walk on eggshells when we all know you just have to eat something and then take the fucking meds?! Mickey tries to hear something and he is not sure if it sounds as if Ian gets up. Mickey’s blood is rushing through his veins so loud. And then he hears him again:

“Guess what, daddy? Debs put a plate with toast, a glass of juice and my meds in front of my bedroom door.”

“Good” Mickey sighs extremely relieved while leaning against the front of the bed, as it suddenly hits him:   
“What did you just say?”

“Huh?” and Mickey can feel Ian’s smirk through the phone which instantly gives him a nice, warm feeling down his stomach, or is it his heart? And he smiles, too. 

“Daddy???” and now Ian can practically see the raised eyebrows through the phone.

“Hmmm” he hears Ian mumbling and Mickey notices how he blinks his eyes quickly again and again. Fuck, when did he become such a pussy over someone eating? But it is not someone. It’s Ian and listening to him stuffing in his sandwich is such a good sound because he has to eat and Mickey is hopeful he will also take his meds once he is finished. Mickey climbs onto his bed, leans the back of his head against the cold wall and lights a cigarette. The phone is lying on the pillow next to him. And just as he starts thinking that Ian might have already forgotten what he wanted to do and spit out in the early morning hours, he hears his devastated voice: 

“It’s not working, Mick.” and Mickey hurries to press the phone to his ear again.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Us. I can’t…”

“Listen, we can work it out. Together. You and me, okay? Whatever it is, Ian!”

“Whatever it is? God, Mickey, you know what it is! I’m sick! I always will be! And… and I …” and Mickey hears him sniffing and he himself breathes faster and faster. 

“I love you, Ian!” and for a second he is not sure if Ian did hang up or if he fainted because everything is black and cold and there is no sound. 

“Let me take…damn, let me be there for you. I’m..I’m…” and his head swirls, too afraid that saying ‘I’m worried about you’ is not the thing Ian would feel comfortable with.   
“I care about you, Ian. A lot. And I don’t wanna fucking lose you!” and that somehow triggers something within himself and Mickey lets go off the softness and carefulness.   
“Don’t you always leave me, Ian! Can’t you see it? Is it too hard to understand?”and now he is yelling while tears are running down his cheeks and Mickey hates that they were not able to just talk, smoothly. But there is so much bottled up inside of him and he is so hurt.   
“I came out for you. And I would do anything for you and you just keep pushing me away; again and again. But...” and he just knows too good if he’d ask ‘don’t you love me too?’ that he would probably just get his heart broken. Again.  
“What you and I have, Ian, that’s special. Right? When we…fuck!” Mickey can’t believe he is going there and he is just happy no one is at home and that it’s already dark when he finally adds: “When we kiss. That’s so good, no? When, I touch you, I just don’t ever want to stop feeling you.” and with that the dam seemed broken:  
“Look, I never thought I would ever say that, to anyone, but, Ian, I need you. I wanna be with you. I need to see you. It’s killing me, that I can’t look into your eyes right now. Gosh, I’m so fucking gay!” and he has to shake his head and laugh a little.   
More silently Mickey than adds thoughtful: “You turned my whole world upside down, Gallagher.” and barely whispering: “You made me free.”

And then there is a devastatingly long silence.   
Mickey starts to pace up and down his room. Damn, say something, Gallagher! I just poured out my fucking heart to you. 

“No, I will just drown you in my fucking illness.”

“FUCK BIPOLAR IN THE ASS! Goddamn Gallagher, do you always need an excuse for everything? God!” and Mickey isn’t sure if the urge to punch Ian is stronger or the need to cup his head with both his hands, look him deep into his beautiful green eyes and let him know:   
“I’ll take care of you. Thick and thin, dumbass. You were right I can’t change it and I can’t change you. And I don’t want to. Yeah, that’s our fucked up life. But it IS OUR life. You hear me, Ian?! That’s how it is. Fucking gay asses in the Southside. You and me.   
Together?”

“You and me?”

“You deaf? Fuck, yeah, you and me!”

“The meds…”

“We’ll figure it out. Together.”

“Yeah, together.” and now Mickey could cry with happiness for the first time since all this stupid crying thing got over him. And he sniffles: “Just one thing, Gallagher: I’m still not gonna wear a dress.” And as soon as it’s said Mickey wonders where that came from but he is just so relieved. 

“Hey, Milkovich, you said, you’re gonna do everything for me.”

“And I’d do, firecrotch, I’d do it. You want me to come back over to your house?”

“No.” and Mickey’s heart stops for a second. Damn he can’t take this roller coaster ride any longer. But he can feel Ian’s smile when he goes on:  
“Not before you tell me something.”

“What?”

“Everything. I just need to know everything about you, Mickey Milkovich.” 

Mickey relaxes and lights another cigarette. And already yawning Ian demands the solution to the first riddle:   
“Okay, favorite color and favorite meal and black and pizza rolls don’t count.”

“The fuck, Gallagher?!” 

And then they go on and exchange all the little things Ian is so eager to get out of his man until they both fall asleep. Ian needs to know everything, because he cares about everything.   
Because he loves Mickey. They both know it. And it both makes them fall asleep with a smile on their exhausted faces. 

**************  
“Mickey? Mick, are you there?”

Mickey reaches over on his bed and is confused for a moment that he can’t get a touch of Ian before he realizes that he still has to be on the phone. 

“Hey” he mumbles drowsily back in the phone. 

“Hey!” and the smile on Ian’s beautiful face is so evident. But then he seems to worry: “Mickey? Can you forgive me? I don’t want to break up with you!” 

“Gallagher. I thought both of these things were clear hours ago, no?” but when he only hears a little sniffle, Mickey goes on: “Hey, Cinderella, I love you.”

“I love you too, Mickey.” And they both lay silently in their beds for a moment. And just as Mickey wants to light the first cigarette of the day, hoping that his day will go without all the wet ingredient he blurred out so much yesterday, Ian asks:

“Mickey? Can you please come over and get me now?”

The cigarette is thrown to the nightstand; Mickey – still fully dressed from yesterday – jumps out of the bed and already starts running like he ran just once before in his life but now he knows everything will be good.   
When he gets to the porch just 24 hours after his last visit Ian is now wearing a jacket and: a shy smile. He comes to meet Mickey, stumbling into his arms, trembling and breathing heavily. He lets himself go, completely trusting his boyfriend to get him. And Mickey holds him, like he has never held him before.

“I’m here. I’ve got you. Okay? Ian, I’ve got this; us.“ the last words merely a whisper

And barely audible Ian whispers in Mickey’s neck:  
“Don’t leave me again, Mickey.”

There is silence, not one of doubt though but Mickey really needs to get himself together after hearing what Ian finally realized. This is the first time he will be able to proove what he is capable of. It’s not as if it didn’t happen before, but this time he feels as if he really gets through to Ian and that it counts, because Ian wants him to do so.

“Of course not.” He answers with emphatically, adding a soft “Dumbass” to finally lighten the situation a bit.   
“I’ve got you. Through thick and thin, good times, bad, sickness, health, all that shit.”

“No, Mick.”

“What?!”

And Ian leans his forehead against Mickey’s:  
“We’ve got each other.” And when he feels Mickey sighing in relief he feels it’s his time now to lighten up the situation: “You complete me” he smirks.

“God, Gallagher!“ Mickey reacts with a dramatic eye roll. “You are so fucking gay!”

„Well. You are what you eat…“

“You are what you eat? Where the hell did that come from?! You feeling better? Yeah? Good enough to take the piss outta me? Yeah?! C’mere!” and a soft kiss seals their never-ending love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for joining me on this wild ride.  
> Next up we'll get back to the present and see how our boys deal with the revelation about Katy.


	9. Despair - Mickey's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, now let's see what will happen after the big revelation....
> 
> This might get you in the mood:  
> [Hans Zimmer - Sorrow](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OJwd54SAtjo&t=0s&list=PLXq8Y6hDjesKOJwd_bDClz2FCi6nIM84A&index=10)

Saturday, 1 pm

Mickey was trying to breathe again. Getting out of the house, yelling and punching Ian was just a blurred, distant memory. He just knew he had been running. He ran and ran. He had to get rid of everything and of them, of all of them. He needed to be alone. How many sick jokes was this life planning on playing on him? A dead mother, an abusive father, poverty, being gay on the Southside, pistol-whipped and raped, a boyfriend suffering from bipolar and now his niece is supposed to be his sister? 

 

Saturday, 3 pm 

Svetlana wasn’t home. Mickey was sure she knew it. As he was sure that they all had known it. Svetlana, Mandy, Ian; all of them laughing in his face. Telling him some bullshit about a child’s father Mandy didn’t know, laughing in his face while he was taking care of and feeding his own sister.

There was more yelling, Kev was there throwing him out of the Alibi after he yelled and cried and rampaged there. For a moment, he thought Kevin would get Ian, to get Mickey and bring him home but somehow Ian never appeared. He never came to get him, to hold him, to help him. No, he had just played his tricks on him. Come on Mickey, take care of us, be a good man, a good boyfriend, a good brother, take care, make sure we are all fine. You? No one cares about you! Don’t be a pussy! Get your shit together. Get over it. Get over everything, the abuse, the rape, the cheating, the lies. All the lies. Every day, Every year. All of them. 

He’d gotten a text from Bobby. Well, in fact, Ian and he both had, since Bobby created a WhatsApp group “boys” for them. Pfff, fucking Marry Poppins. So, Mr. Poppins just gave him an update that the training had been awesome and afterwards they had grabbed something to eat and now they’d head to their home where the boys could before Bobby would escort Yevgeny home later on. 6 the latest; Poppins.

 

4 pm

Mandy texted to say that she would be staying at a friend’s house this night with Katy. Mickey could bet that friend was Svetlana, or since when did Mandy have any friends she’d go to with her daughter? His sister. Mickey already started to run back to Svetlana, but then he stopped. What for? What would any confrontation be good for? Was he really supposed to listen to more lies? He was just tired. He was tired of being exploited, tired of taking care, tired of trying to prove himself over and over again, tired of being there for his loved ones. Mickey was so damn tired. He was tired of his life. 

No text from Ian.  
Tears.  
Tears like small, cold like diamonds, which displayed his despair for everyone visible on his face. 

 

5 pm

Somehow Mickey had found his way home. And something deep inside of him forced him to take the creaking stairs and take a shower upstairs. He wondered if it was a sense of responsibility or rather stupidity that made him go on and on

Mickey undressed himself, put the water on and while he waited a second for it to get warm, he took his cell phone and looked at it, a chill crawling down his spine.  
No text from Ian.  
Shouldn’t he try to reach him?

Mickey stepped into the shower and waited for the water to wash his tears away. Where did these little fuckers come from, again and again? He looked up and savored the feeling of the water pounding on his delicate face, the warmth surrounding him like a comforting blanket and slowly calming him down a bit. But Mickey was still shaking. He was shivering from doubt which crept upon him like an ugly spider. With every minute spent under the shower, with every second he had to himself, Mickey began to doubt that any kind word, any hint of affection, even any physical affection had ever been true.  
He had to get out.

 

5:45 pm

Sitting on the old porch steps, with a burning cigarette between his lips, Mickey felt nothing but deep emptiness.  
To his own surprise, he found himself longing for Bobby to come over. He longed for anyone to come; to come and save him. He needed to be saved from being swallowed by doubt, by this dark, cold hole of emptiness, fear and anxiety. He had looked inside that hole too often already in his short life and he wondered how long he could prevent being sucked inside. With every hour without Ian, without anyone, Mickey felt like he wasn’t able to stop himself from getting sucked ever closer to the hole.

“Hey, Mick.”  
Finally.  
"Hey." Mickey greeted Bobby, the boys trotting behind him, deep into some conversation about the newest Xbox game.  
Mickey got up, opened the door and let them all inside the empty house.

Still no message from Ian.

The boys instantly ran upstairs to Yev’s room.

"Hey guys, we didn't talk about that," Bobby called after them. And with a helpless shrug he turned to Mickey who had already grabbed two beers, extending one towards him.

"Thanks, man. You okay with that?"

"Sure. Looks like you had a cool day."

“Yeah. Not sure if Yevgeny is really into soccer but he enjoyed being there” and after an angry eyebrow rise from Mickey, Bobby hurried to say:  
“I didn’t mean he wanted to be away from home! I just thought that he really, really enjoyed a fun time. Okay. I’m making it worse, huh?” and the way he desperately searched for the right words, his brow crinkled, looking helplessly at Mickey made the latter feel a funny something inside his stomach. 

“No, man. Couldn’t blame him if he wanted to run away” Mickey mumbled and in his mind, he added ‘I know, I’d like to’.

Bobby didn’t know what to make of that and hurried to ask as casually as possible:  
"Ian is at work?"

But before Mickey was able to grunt what the fuck that was his problem, Bobby went on:  
"It's cool how you organized everything. Yev can be lucky. Well, he is" he added with a heartwarming smile.  
"You should hear him bragging about you two." and while he smiled absentmindedly at his beer Mickey looked at him all perplexed.  
A good part of him was quite annoyed about Yev telling anyone anything about their private life. But he was bragging? And as if Bobby sensed Mickey's confusion - which wasn't too hard to guess regarding his furrowed forehead - he went on, filling the silence with his deep and soothing voice:

"He didn't tell me anything that wasn't my business, but he is too proud of his two dads not to tell how cool you two are; plus his aunt and mother." Bobby's voice got more quiet when he went on:  
"Can't believe there are four of you. He really is a lucky boy. And the best behaved we ever had around" and now the strength and laughter were back in his voice  
"which is something he blames his mother for."

Mickey couldn't help but smile, yeah, Svetlana sure was to blame for that; in the best way possible. But then it hit him that he was the only one who was sitting here right now, listening to some nice ass kissing while the other three had betrayed him, stabbed him in the back and didn't even care to look him in the face. Yeah, what a lucky boy Yev was. But before Mickey could pity himself more, he heard:

"I'm all on my own.  
Sometimes I think I should try again to get along with Tyler’s grandparents. But they didn't even like me when Sarah was still alive and when, when she was gone they gave me the hardest time - as if it wasn't anyway- and I panicked that they'd sooner or later try to take him away from me. That's when we moved here."

Mickey looked up, pulling himself out of his own thoughts to pay attention to this picture of a man who happened to be stranded in his shabby kitchen. 

"We moved here from California two years ago."

"California?! Who the fuck gives up California for this?" and Mickey gestured around him.  
Bobby laughed and strangely, Mickey realized he wasn't annoyed by it at all, on the contrary, it was nice, he started to like it and it gave him a warm feeling when Bobby leaned back in the kitchen chair and gestured up and down his body - a well-trained body - Mickey thought.

"You know who!" They clinked their bottles together and shaking his head Mickey couldn‘t help but laugh too. 

It surprised him a bit when he heard a  
„You hungry? Wanna stay for dinner you two?“ coming out of his own mouth, which seemed to have a direct connection to his heart instead of his mind.

„Sure, thanks man“.

And it was this direct and honest way, Mickey liked.  
No‚ ‘you sure, that‘s ok?’ Cause he said so, right?  
And despite all what happened, despite sitting here without Mandy, without Ian and without his sister, well, half-sister, Mickey managed not to think about them, as long as he enjoyed some rich burgers with his son and two newly found friends. 

 

9 pm

Their worn couch. More pestilent cigarettes. But at least no more tears.  
Mickey didn’t even remember what he had told Yev about the whereabouts of Mandy, Katy and Ian. He just remembered how Yev had tried a bit too hard to please him and not do anything wrong or ask anything that could get him angry and that had scared the shit out of Mickey since it reminded him of himself when he was younger. When he was pretending to be invisible, trying his best not to upset his dad. Mickey never wanted to see this fear and behavior on his own kid but he was too worn out to talk about it with Yev. Not now, not tonight, not while he was still hurting himself so much and was still trying to put things together, trying really hard to understand what happened.  
He loved Katy. God, of course he still loved her. But WHY? Why on earth? And for the very first time he concentrated on the why/how could that have happened instead of at the ‘why did no one tell me?’  
Mickey opened another pack of cigarettes, his third one today.  
He could not keep his knee still and with his hand, he stroked a strand from his forehead again and again. As he drew hastily and completely absent-mindedly on his cigarette, he felt the heat rise in him, anger made its way across his heart to his mind.  
How could that happen? When had Mandy been anywhere near Terry about 5 years ago that this could have happened?  
And why on earth did she keep the child?  
But then he remembered what Mandy had told Ian and him when she announced that she was pregnant: “Mick, you and him have each other, but I don’t have anyone in my life. I mean, no one except you two douche bags. I also want to have something good in my life. I also want unconditional love; to get and to give. I know I could do that. I already love her.”  
And the memory made him smile: from the first moment Mandy was so convinced she would get a girl. And yes, she does love her, with all her heart.  
But, thinking about the way she must have gotten her made Mickey nauseous. He jumped up, too angry to keep sitting.  
“Fuck! This goddamn fuckhead! Two kids, two fucking kids and it’s his fault! Jesus Christ!” banging his fist down the wall and shrieked away, when the nearby door opened in that same second.  
“Mandy!”  
And before Mandy was able to back up, which she wanted to, because she was convinced Mickey is still deeply mad at her, she had hardly any time to notice his reddened eyes, before she got wrapped up in a strong hug. Her brother’s hands on her back, his distinctive smell of nicotine and beer hitting her nose; she was home again.  
“Mandy. What, the fuck, what…” and as she relaxed a little in his embrace, able to return it tenderly, she noticed her brother’s soft sobbing.  
Their faces merely inches apart, his reddened eyes peeking inside hers, he uttered in disbelief:  
“What kind of father does that? How did he get like that, Mandy? You were always his princess?!” But the moment the words were spoken, he realized their fatal meaning and froze. Finally letting Mandy go off the hug, he took her face in his hands, cupping it on both sides and looked at her in sheer horror.  
“Oh god. Fuck! Oh god fuck.”

 

11:30 pm

Mickey couldn’t remember ever having talked as much to his sister as they just did. It made both of them aware that it had been long overdue.  
Mickey had always considered himself as being close to his sister and was deeply shocked by all the things she revealed, all the horrible things she had kept to herself for so long. A mixture of profound guilt and admiration for her strength gave Mickey a headache he knew no pill in the world could heal. 

“He really didn’t know, Mick” Mandy swore for the twentieth time.

“Then where the fuck is he and why doesn’t he text anything?!”

“Did you text him?” she asked, already knowing the answer of her stubborn brother. 

“Mick, you got so angry that you punched him in the face! He is probably deathly scared right now.”

“He didn’t text you, either?”

“Call him, Mickey.” And with that, she gave him another long hug and whispered  
“I’m going to bed, ok?”

“Where is Katy?”

“She is sleeping over at Jennifer’s, that’s a girl from her kindergarten class.”

“ ‘kay. Good night.”

“Good night.” and on her way upstairs, she added:  
“I love you, Mick, and call Ian” while her brother looked at her with tearful eyes again. 

Had Mandy ever told him she loved him before? Mickey didn’t think so. And realizing how important it was and what these three little words could carry, Mickey finally did what he probably should have been doing hours ago, if only he had the energy then.  
On the way to the bedroom, he took his cell phone upstairs, sat down exhausted on the bed, on their bed, dialed Ian's number and whispered:

“I love you, Ian. Please come home.”


	10. Distress  - Ian's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No summary but again a little song suggestion (kind of my Friday song for you ;o) )  
> [Ben Howard - Promise](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CVUOTzoVeZA)

Saturday, 1 pm

“Mick” he mumbled shocked, blood dripping from his lip, where he’d hit him hard. Why, Ian wasn’t too sure of.  
When Mickey psyched out in Maria’s living room, Ian had just wanted to calm him. But the moment he got too close, trying to hold Mickey, who was so devastated, hurt and furious he felt a hard punch on his mouth, followed by the iron taste of blood in his mouth.

“You!” Mickey had yelled out furiously “You, back up, get lost, you fucking liar!”

“But Mick, I didn’t…”

“Shut your fucking mouth! All of you!” and off he ran, leaving the two people who loved him most in complete despair. Maria and Katy felt even more helpless and the latter expressed it by promptly bursting into tears. hesitantly she looked up with dark, teary eyes and asked Mandy:  
“Mommy, why did Mickey beat Ian?” and when Mandy mumbled:  
“Because I massively fucked up” Maria took Katy’s hand but she slipped through, aiming for Ian’s leg to cling to. Ian bowed down and took her absent mindedly in his arm.

“I’ll find him, Mandy. I’m gonna go get Mickey back, princess.” he assured them, wishing he could believe himself.

When Ian stepped outside the house of horror – again – he deeply inhaled the fresh air. His head was spinning and he felt a stinging pain taking possession of his whole body, leading his path with frightful effect right through his heart, releasing itself through his eyes. And then he ran. He ran and ran.

 

Saturday, 3:30 pm 

Svetlana wasn’t home.  
Ian had planned to warn her; sure that Mickey would rant at her apartment. Or maybe his feet had just gotten him here sure that Mickey would also find his way there. In fact, Ian was quite confused that he didn’t find Mickey right there, sitting on the steps, taking a drag and fuming. Where else should he look after him now?  
Come on Mickey, let me take care of us, please help me be a good man, a good boyfriend, I want to make sure we are all fine. You? We all care about you! No one thinks you are a pussy! No one thinks you haven’t got your shit together. Get over it. Damn, Mickey if you could just for one fucking time in your life let go of the past and believe me. Please, Mick, please trust me.  
Where are you?

He’d gotten a text from Bobby. Well, in fact, Mickey and he both had since Bobby created a WhatsApp group “boys” for them. Geez, Bobby really was some kind of a momma bear, Ian thought. So, momma bear just gave them an update that the training had been awesome and afterward they had grabbed something to eat, they’d head to their home where the boys could play now before Bobby would escort Yevgeny home later on. 6 the latest; momma bear.  
Ian tried to evaluate if it was safe to go back home then. He was pretty sure Mickey would try to keep it at least a bit together when Bobby and the kids were around. On the other hand: would he really be there at all? And if so, maybe he would just hate him even more for letting someone else witness this whole mess.  
And he ran again.

 

4 pm

Mandy texted she’d stay over at a friend this night with Katy.  
Ian wondered who that friend could be. Since when did Mandy have any friends she’d go to with her daughter? And Ian felt ashamed that he didn’t know. He felt ashamed of how little he knew about Mandy and about Katy. They had lived their little happy family life day in and day out but what had been hidden behind the facade? Did they all have their secrets? Did Mickey have any secrets Ian didn’t know about? His self-confidence and the fact that he persuaded himself that he knew Mickey inside and out, did not allow Ian to entertain this thought. Instead, he realized something much worse. He finally understood, that because of everything that happened in the past, Mickey was the one who would always think that Ian had secrets he was hiding from him. And he would have every right in the world to think like that. Ian came to realize that he would never be able to convince Mickey that he didn’t know about it. Especially not if he’d ever found out about the abortion. Oh my god, would Mandy tell him now? Ian didn’t doubt that Mandy would confess anything right now. Otherwise: they had kept that secret for so long he honestly nearly had forgotten about it. If Mandy would admit that now, they’d both be lost. He could not blame Mickey if he threw both of them out, wishing to never ever see them again. Ian was deathly scared. He had to prevent anything like that. He already started to run back to Svetlana, but then he stopped. What for? What should any confrontation be good for? 

No text from Mickey.  
Tears.  
Tears like small, cold like diamonds, which displayed his despair for everyone visible on his face.

 

5 pm

Somehow Ian had found his way to the bleachers. 

Still no text from Mickey.  
Shouldn’t he try to reach him?

Holding his mobile, Ian was shaking. He was shivering from doubt which crept upon him like an ugly spider With every minute spent at their spot, with every second he had to himself, Ian began to doubt that any kind word, any sign of affection, even any physical affection would ever be wanted and taken as an honest deed right from his heart by Mickey again.  
He had to get out.

 

5:45 pm

Standing inside the old abandoned building, a cigarette between his lips Ian felt nothing but deep emptiness.

Ian found himself longing for Mickey to come. He longed for him to just come back; to come and save him. He needed to be saved from being swallowed by doubt, by this dark, cold hole of emptiness, fear and anxiety. He had looked inside that hole too often already in his short life and he wondered how long he could prevent being sucked inside. And with every hour without Mickey, without anyone, Ian perceived he wasn’t any longer able to draw himself away from that hole all on his own. 

Ian was so scared Mickey would never come back again. And he couldn’t even blame him if he wanted to run away. Absentmindedly kicking away some stones Ian mumbled  
“I know, I’d like to”.

Still no message from Mickey.

 

9 pm

The old Alibi.More pestilent cigarettes. But at least no more tears.

Ian was still trying to put things together, trying really hard to understand what happened.  
Why on earth? As he drew hastily and completely absent-mindedly on his cigarette, he felt the heat rise in him, anger made its way across his heart to his mind.  
How could that happen? When had Mandy been anywhere near Terry about 5 years ago that this could have happened?  
And why on earth did she keep the child?  
But then he remembered what Mandy had told Mickey and him when she announced that she was pregnant: “Mick, you and him have each other, but I don’t have anyone in my life. I mean, no one except you two douche bags. I also want to have something good in my life. I also want unconditional love; to get and to give. I know I could do that. I already love her.”  
And the memory made him smile: from the first moment Mandy was so convinced she would get a girl. And yes, she loved her, with all her heart.  
But, thinking about the way she must have gotten her made Ian nauseous.  
“Fuck! This goddamn fuckhead! Two kids, two fucking kids and it’s his fault!” and Ian opened another pack of cigarettes, his third one today.

 

11:30 pm

His phone rang. With trembling fingers Ian got it out of his pocket, throwing all the prayers in the world towards heaven to let it be Mickey. He didn’t care any longer if he would be yelled at or whatever he just knew he’d go crazy if it took another minute before he heard his voice again.  
Looking at the display, Ian’s eyes were so teary he wasn’t sure for nearly too long if he was just wishing to see ‘My Mickey’ on the screen or if it was real.  
With quivering lips he pressed the green button and after he almost did not manage to lift the phone to his ear, he finally heard the only voice that counted in his life

“I love you, Ian. Please come home.”

 

0:00 

Ian wasn’t sure how he made it back to their home without being run over by a car, but standing in their bedroom now, breathless from all the running and psychological exhaustion that day had brought, he couldn’t fathom what he heard Mickey say: 

“We gotta talk to Yev about that fucking picture. “

“Mickey…”

“No, Ian, I mean it!” and Mickey sat up, his head frowning and Ian could hardly resist cupping his beautiful face that was so full of sorrow in his hands. He wanted to, but he was still afraid he would end up being pushed away.  
But then again: when did Mickey ever push him away? When?  
Every single time he had made this mistake. Not Mickey; ever. Ian’s eyes filled with tears again.

“I want to do this for real. Are we in this for real, Ian?”

“Of course we are!”

“Then how come we don’t know so many things? We’ve been in this for so long now and yes, we got our own place and we care for Yevgeny”  
and Ian still didn’t dare to add “and Mandy and Katy” but he added this in his head  
“but there is still so much that we don’t do. I really want to know my son. I want to know who his friends are and talk to their parents and shit” Mickey spit out, trying hard not to loose all the venom in his voice and the trembling taking over. 

“We did that today” Ian mumbled hesitantly, still not sure what to interpret this situation.

“Yes, and it was good, Ian. It was so fucking normal. I need us to do normal things, okay? I...” and his voice trembled more and more “just for once in my goddamn life I want to be normal. And now get the fuck under the blanket it’s freezing.”

Pretty confused but extremely relieved Ian slipped under the blanket. He was so relieved to be here again; with Mickey. They both laid with a secure distance to each other in bed and Ian thought about how he had expected to be yelled at again and actually, he had even hoped for some making-up-for-it sex after the phone call. But Mickey just laid on his side, his face facing towards the window and for the first time, Ian didn’t dare to touch him.  
Nevertheless he cautiously slid a bit closer to him:  
“Mickey…”

“Don’t!”

Ian’s heart dropped. But then Mickey turned over to face him and Ian couldn’t avoid admiring how the moonlight created something like a halo around Mickey’s pale face: 

“We massively fucked up with taking care of Mandy.”

And they both looked at each other with teary eyes, their hearts full of sorrow and a guilty conscience.

“We can’t fuck it up like that with Yev or Katy. And I see that suppressed smile, Gallagher! Jesus Ian, she is Mandy’s daughter.”  
And with that Mickey rolled over on his side again.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t be pissed at you two shitbags for another five years. “ Ian heard him grumble and very sleepy adding “But we take care of each other. Through thick…and thin.” And with that Mickey took Ian’s arm and wrapped it around him, instantly falling asleep after this crazy day, while Ian laid awake until dawn, relieved but trembling and fighting back tears for hours, overwhelmed with the luck and the fear of being with Mickey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me.  
> I'd love to hear what you think about it.
> 
> And thanks to my wonderful beta readers!


	11. Sleeping Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, thank so so much for going on this journey with me and leaving all this kudos and wonderful comments!
> 
> So, in this chapter it will get pretty domestic...which doesn't mean it's all easy peasy but when will it ever be with the boys, huh? 
> 
> You might want to listen to that song for this chapter:  
> [Light - Sleeping at last](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7egYKkIKqDs&list=PLXq8Y6hDjesJtoUaAe2W5lbkKfBgmBgLA&index=6)

The next day a drained Mickey found himself in front of a hot steaming coffee at the kitchen table, his sister sitting next to him, while Ian, Yev and Katy had gone to the park with Bobby and Tyler. Mickey knew that was no coincidence, but if Mandy decided they needed to talk in peace then she could probably even arrange for the damn pope to fuck right off from his own audience, Mickey had not the slightest doubt about that.  
For a moment they just sat in silence, listening to the unusually quiet house.   
Mickey thought about how they had all grown up in households that had always been buzzing, how something had always been going on and how they grew up in constant tumult, when Mandy’s voice, stated fearfully:

“I was jealous, Mickey” and tore him out of his thoughts.

He just raised an eyebrow and watched his sister play with a strand of her dark hair. 

“You had Ian and since he was always with you I didn’t even have him for myself anymore!”

“Mands…”

“No, listen, douchebag.   
It, it was after I lost that job and I had just heard about an offering at this new club and decided to apply for it. I had been crashing with Lucy for a couple days and needed to go back home to get something to dress up for the interview.”  
Pausing for a second, her cheeks already pink from agitation, she realized how her brother got more uncomfortable, constantly fidgeting with his thumb over the handle of his mug.  
“I even checked in with Iggy to make sure no one would be home but I couldn’t reach him.”  
Mickey shifted uneasily in his chair, one question hanging in the air so obviously that he could just as well ask directly:

“Where was I?” geez, if it just didn’t come out that weakly. Mickey couldn’t look her in the eyes and concentrated on the small circles of the coffee steam. 

Her sad snort told him perfectly where he had been and with what, well who, he had probably been occupied with, and it put a stinging pain of guilt in his stomach. 

They were both staring concentrated at the kitchen table, both longing for a cigarette, both fighting back tears, in fear of what would be to come. 

“He stumbled in, the moment I was about to leave. He eyed me up and down and …”

“Mandy…” and then Mickey did something, that didn’t happen often between them: he took Mandy’s trembling hand, squeezed her reassuringly and just shook his head, showing her that he definitely wouldn’t need any details. And his sister understood. 

“When…” she sobbed slightly and tried to pull herself together.  
“Weeks later I got back home, thinking there might be some money after one of his runs and that he, that this fuck should at least pay for…And that’s how I found out about Rosa. I waited for her at the Alibi one night, I wanted to tell her what a shithead Terry is and how fucked up she must be to be together or whatever with him and…” and she sighed deeply “I dunno, somehow we ended up talking the whole night through and she…well, it was actually her idea to blackmail Terry.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Rosa said the baby could be our insurance, something that could keep him away from us.”

Mickey tried to wrap his head around the fact, that first, that woman had been together with his shithead of a father at all and second, suggested to blackmail him while living with him under one roof. And while he asked himself if only women could be so false and how happy he was to have never liked girls, he scolded himself right away, since the fact was: if you are a shithead, then that definitely didn’t have anything to do with your gender. And while Mickey shook his head over his heterophobic thought, Mandy mumbled:

“Even back then she already said something about him having to pay for his sins and that kinda shit.  
Mick, I never really wanted to, to get rid of…I never wanted to have her made away. And maybe that was sick, I mean, god, that whole situation was more than sick, but I wanted to hold on to that baby growing inside of me from the very first moment I knew I was pregnant.  
Yev was around three then, and he was just so sweet and made everyone so happy.”

Yes, Mickey remembered that time.   
The first time in his life when he truly felt free. Terry had still been in jail after the fight at the Alibi. He did have his coming out, and he was living with the love of his life. Ian had been stable. Svetlana was showing what Mickey had to learn and fathom over the years that followed, was her true face: a caring mother and a more than understanding friend. He had a son. A son he grew fond of. A son that didn’t scare him any longer. They all had been in this together. They finally started to take care of each other, mutually. He wasn’t any longer on the giving side only. Ian showed him that he was trustworthy, Svetlana didn’t play any tricks, and Yev’s love was unconditionally from the second he came into the world. Mickey couldn’t have been happier. And he knew that Ian and Svetlana couldn’t have been happier either, because they felt safe and loved. All was fine for them. They were a family.   
And Mandy? His own sister? Jesus Fucking Christ!  
Turning his head to finally look at her, he felt something wet running down his cheek.   
Mandy just smiled at him knowingly, and it was the saddest smile Mickey would ever receive in his life. He carefully slid closer towards his sister and she leaned in, allowing their foreheads to touch. With closed eyes, inhaling each other’s familiar scent, their tender physical connection linked their tortured souls again. Brother and sister united, it seemed as if they were telepathically sharing their emotions, not realizing themselves that their hands had also found each other. Their fingers were interwoven, carefully touching the other one, together they were tender and fragile yet able to defy the strongest storms.

“I’m sorry, I fucked up, Mands.”

“Just don’t hate her, Mick. Please.”

“Her? The fuck are you implying, Mandy? I hate that fucking damn ass of a fucked up father of ours! Jesus.”

“And Mick…Ian didn’t know a thing. I swear!”

“Okay.”

“Really, Mickey,” Mandy whispered with a slightly quivering voice “I swear to god, he didn’t know anything!”

“Okay, okay,” her brother answered reassuringly and Mickey was surprised to witness himself caressing Mandy’s cheek with his thumb, something he had only ever done with Ian before. Getting nervous he snorted   
“Fuck, let’s go outside and have a smoke, ‘kay?”

Rubbing her wet cheek, Mandy stepped outside; facing the sun with a small smile, knowing everything would be good again.   
They sat down shoulder to shoulder on the front steps and she leaned against her brother, fully taking advantage of his soft side that day.   
Catching the cigarette out of Mickey’s mouth, she wondered:  
“Did you ever imagine it like this? Us ending up with our own house, own kids, you and Ian?”

And when she just got a grumble back, she went on:  
“Despite everything, we have it good, don’t we, Mick?”

Taking a long draw, Mickey looked down, since he wasn’t yet able to look his sister in the eye:  
“Always dreamed about it,” he mumbled, hardly audible. “Didn’t really think about a house, but…well, I just wished for a safe place. Some place to take care of him and where we could be just…us.”   
Pressing his fingers at the bridge of his nose, Mickey hoped that he didn’t came across too selfish, losing all the ground he may have just made up again with Mandy.   
Mandy meanwhile didn’t seem to bother, reaching out her hand for the cigarette again. 

Something, well someone they both didn’t realize was Bobby, who had come back since he thought he might have forgotten his bag inside their home when he had picked up the kids and all their stuff and Mandy had made a huge thing about shoving them all out of the house in a hurry.   
He came running back, spotting the siblings sitting outside on the porch, facing the sidewalk. In the short time Bobby had known the siblings, they had each created this facade that they were able to stand tall and strong on their own. But, as the man slowed to a halt, he was enamored by the sight before him. Mickey and Mandy were leaning against the railing of the porch, with their arms wrapped around one another, completely vulnerable. As if they let go of their pride for a moment to be the physical and emotional support the other one needed."  
“You have always been his safe place, Mick.”

Mickey snorted in response.

“Don’t snort, douchebag!” Mandy said, playfully shoving Mickey’s shoulder. “But you see, that’s it, that’s what I want to be for Katy. And who knows” and she sighed deeply “maybe one day I will find someone who gives at least a little shit about me, hm?”

“He better gives a lot of a shit!” Mickey playfully retorted and Bobby thought to himself, that he would love to give a shit about Mandy.

****************

The days went by, and from midday on, Spring was not any longer deniable. Ian no longer had to disguise himself as a mummy for his early morning runs and Bobby and the kids made Douglas Park their regular afternoon spot. Mandy was suspiciously often involved, but whenever Ian or Mickey – or both of them together, exchanging silly little smirks – teased her about it, she brushed them off, exclaiming she couldn’t leave her precious princess Katy alone with three rough men. To which, she of course earned nothing then highly raised eyebrows. “Rough?” The only one ever getting slightly near to “rough” was Bobby, and somehow all of the adults would probably haven’t said no to him being even a bit more “rough”…

Waking up on a seldom morning where Ian wasn’t already up before him, Mickey wondered how the last days could have been so calm after the storm. Could it be that it was exactly what they were craving? So far, they had always emerged stronger than they were before from any drama.   
Staring at the ceiling Mickey sighted, remembering he already wanted to talk to Yev about his behavior, making sure the little boy still felt comfortable around him. If Yev would be anxious of him, Mickey could never forgive himself. Well, maybe Yev just copied his more than picture perfect manners the last days from Ian who also made sure to do nothing than to please Mick. Fuck, them walking around eggshells, kissing his ass, was also not what he wanted…although… turning around to see Ian still sound asleep, wiped out all hopes for the one kind of ass kissing he wouldn’t mind right now.   
Mickey was tempted to wake Ian up, but his peaceful look made him stop. Instead he nestled into the hollow of Ian’s collarbone, and savored the soft skin. He closed his eyes again and let his hand slowly slide down; over his stomach, until he reached his waistband. Taking a deep breath, he touched himself and thought how he hadn’t been doing that for an eternity.   
Sex had always been there when they needed it. They used it to ground themselves and (re-)connect again. It had always made them feel invincible even in their weakest moments.   
Mickey licked his pillowy lips while his thumb carefully caressed his sensitive head. He imagined how Ian thrusted into him so deep and powerful, filling him up so good. He opened his mouth, his pulsating dick growing harder and bigger in his warm hand.   
Fuck. No, no that didn’t feel right. And still it felt so good, but he wanted Ian to make him grow hard. Damn, they did have enough months when Ian’s libido was more or less nonexistent, but these days, all was good. Mickey felt a bit caught and let his head fall down onto the bedsheet. Exhaling deeply he couldn’t avoid thinking back now to Ian’s first full on medication when Mickey simply couldn’t satisfy him, getting nothing but blow jobs in return. When Ian wasn’t all dazed he got more and more anxious with each day he couldn’t grow hard. They both needed to feel each other, deep and inside of the other one. It had been frustrating and Mickey panicked at the thought of Ian giving up his medication just to feel something again. All the pumping in the world didn’t help and Ian just looked so lost when Mickey   
whispered in his ear “your limp dick is still a thousand times more powerful than any dick the Southside had seen before”.   
Then one day, Mickey came back from running some errands, welcomed by a somewhat dopey looking Ian sporting the most impressive hard on Mickey had ever seen on his boyfriend. He instantly felt a pressure in his pants, smirking lustfully and heading towards the naked man. But when he leaned over, he witnessed Ian’s glassy eyes and the little blue pills on the nightstand. “I’m like a fucking 80 year old, Mick. You… why don’t you…I can’t…”

“Shhh, shhhhh” he had leaned their heads together, caressing his cheek “does it at least feel good to you?”

“I dunno”, Ian sniffed, it’s a bit strange”.

“Well, it’s huge, that’s what it is….” And they couldn’t help to laugh a bit helpless and embarrassed by the whole situation. 

Mickey wanted to tell Ian how it was perfectly fine as long as it made him feel better and that he really shouldn’t be doing it for anyone else. He wanted to tell him that he did some research –again – and that it would probably just take some time to be back to normal and that stressing out about it was just as harmful as the meds. He wanted to tell Ian that, yes he loved his dick and he loved his dick especially once it was inside of him, hitting hard on is prostate. They had been told this could happen and it was fine for him, because in the end, in the end it was Ian whom he loved more than he could ever appreciate any dick in this whole wide world.   
But that was then, when they had still been so insecure and he had just warily caressed Ian’s massive dick, kissing his tears away while he stroked him to a relieving orgasm.   
Mickey was happy these times had been over. He was never a fan of a heart to heart talk or spilling his feelings at all but he had learned that honesty always helped them the best and it wasn’t parents nights that made him feel like an adult but his lover openly admitting “I need them tonight” and him answering “ ‘kay”. 

Mickey turned around and noticed how the sun kissed Ian’s red hair, making it glow, revealing streaks of gold within the auburn locks. He wondered how something, someone, that precious and beautiful had been able to spring from the Southside. As Mickey lost himself in the sight of Ian’s freckles, it occurred to him that they were like two buttercups that had made their way out through the asphalt into freedom, stretching out towards the sunlight, hungry for life, hungry for love.   
He adjusted himself a bit and reached out his hand to touch Ian’s shimmering hair. Carefully, he stroked down Ian’s cheek before finally cupping the side of his face, allowing his thumb to tenderly caress the other man’s cheekbone. With a deep sigh he gently rested his forehead against Ian's and whispered: 

“Hey, sleeping beauty.”

No reaction. Mickey smiled, Ian being fast asleep was so typical.   
But Mickey was on a mission: his nose slightly nudged the tip of Ian’s before his warm, full lips slid across the other man’s mouth, down to his neck, along the collarbone, before his nose took over again, playfully poking at Ian’s armpit.

“Hmmm.”

“Sleepy face. C’mon” and he playfully nudged his nose against Ian’s rib. Mickey's playful advances were to no avail, Ian simply huffed and rolled onto his side. That only added fuel to the fire; Mickey took a deep breath and blew raspberries as hard as he could right underneath Ian's ribcage. Immediately, Ian was wide awake and wildly flung his arms around him.

“Seriously, Mickey?! Fuck! How old…how can you…?“ but it was less anger, than suppressed laughter that came out of him. And as Mickey dropped himself on his chest, they both laughed more loud and liberating than they probably had in years.

As he was slowly able to breathe again and the last tears of laughter rolled down his cheeks, Mickey realized one thing: nothing would ever prevent him from protecting his family with whatever it may take, until his last breath, even if he would have to pay with his own life. 

*******

It was 11 o’clock when the ringing wouldn’t stop and Ian moved his dazed head towards his mobile. He must have fallen asleep again after the beautifully light interlude a few hours ago, or had it just been a dream? He did have a long and good hard working night the other day and wondered why Mickey – because who else would call him – wouldn’t stop trying to wake him up. Slowly opening his eyes he got wildly awake in an instant when he realized the “School” at the display.  
“Fuck! Yev?” 

“Mr. Gallagher? This is Mr. Michaels speaking, you son’s school headmaster.”

Ian felt how the rising panic strangled his throat and he asked again “Yev?” not able to put out a whole sentence being at the edge of hyperventilating, his heart beating so loud in his chest. Why did they call him? Where was Svetlana? And Mickey?

“Mr. Gallagher, your son is fine. But I’d appreciate one of Yevgeny’s parents coming over to the school to discuss some unpleasant incident that took place this morning. I would like to resolve this as soon as possible. Are you able to see me before school ends?”

“Uhm, yeah, I’ll be there in 30 minutes, sir.” Ian answered while he was already collecting some fresh clothing he could rush into. 

“Good. Until then, Mr. Gallagher.”

Ian’s “Bye” didn’t reach the principal who had already hung up, leaving Ian standing completely confused in the middle of their bedroom, absentmindedly thinking that confusion was far better than panic, but he really wished he’d understand the situation and would know what to do. Too many thoughts were running through his mind. What happened? Why couldn’t they reach Svetlana? And what about Mickey? Did Mr. Michaels try to reach them too? Unsuccessfully? Out of instinct Ian already started to dial Mickey’s number but then forced himself to stop it.   
“No.” He straightened his black Henley, took a deep breath and told himself   
“You’ve got this. I am his Dad too. He called me. Yev is fine. I’ll find out what happened and we’ll deal with everything else later.”   
It helped, but walking down their stairs Ian was still wondering why on earth both Svetlana and Mickey had been unavailable. Passing the kitchen table he was thankful to see there was still some warm coffee at their old little machine left. Filling up his cup he read a note, saying no more than “Groceries” telling him, that Mandy and Katy had gone grocery shopping. Ian hastily finished his coffee and made his way to Yev’s school.   
On his way he had to stop himself several times not to give in finally and call Mickey. But he was determined to manage this; on his own and not being a burden this time. He wouldn’t be the one all the others always had to look after again and again.   
As Ian climbed the stairs to the entrance, he became dizzy. A wave of emotions and memories of the events of the last days and weeks broke over him. It seized him with full force, paired with memories of all the situations in which he had repeatedly abandoned Mickey. Feelings of helplessness over his illness struck him. Dazed, he held tight to the railing and again forced himself to breathe deeply.   
He remembered how he'd looked after Yev when he'd still been a baby and Mickey had a hard time bonding with him.   
He kept his face in the fresh midday breeze and concentrated on carefree moments full of love and tenderness.   
He could do this. Ian tried do wipe the thought away that he had always just been number 3 on the emergency list. Finally, his memories clung to the domestic bliss they once had when Yevy was still a toddler. Ian breathed deeply in and out, brushing away the few harsh bipolar episodes they had to go through. In and out. Domestic. The reliable one. 

Stepping inside the school, Ian had to smile. He was sure that the smell of a waxed school hallway was one of the very few, deep anchored memories that would never truly leave you, it would always bring back feelings, memories, now mixed with irritable thoughts as it was so strange getting here as a father. 

“Mr Michaels?” Ian tried not to knock too insecure at the door and stepped in with a mixture of a frowned forehead and a forced smile, remembering something must have happened. 

“Mr Gallagher, glad you could make it” the principal rose a bit from his chair, greeted Ian with a strong handshake and indicated with a slight nod that Ian should sit next to his son, who was already waiting there. 

“In this school, we strongly believe in diversity and we won’t ever accept any homophobic behavior.” While the director’s voice sounded like approaching thunder that made Yev slip deeper into the chair with every word, Ian could barely contain a slightly irritated grin. 

“Sir???”

“Mr Gallagher, I was disappointed when it was brought to my attention that, of all the pupils in my school, it was your son who felt the need to scribble the F-word on one of the toilet doors.”

“F…uck?” Ian tried.

“No. Yevgeny?”

Both men stared intently at the young boy now who very obviously wished for the earth to open and just swallow him to get him out of this embarrassing situation.

“Sir,” and during the pause that seemed like hours Ian watched his son from the side biting his lip hard, looking so much like his Daddy.

“Yevgeny, I thought you would know how insulting this word is, that you shouldn’t use it and of course should not damage school property!”

“Yes ,sir” Yev answered barely audible, blinking suspiciously often his eyelids.

Before Ian could even ask what exactly they were talking about the principal addressed him with a bill, stating “We have an estimated charge for this kind of cleaning cost, that..”

But Ian finally found his voice again.

“Mr. Michaels, sorry if I am slow on the uptake, but what exactly are we talking about here? Some scribbling on the toilet door? And do you even have evidence that it was done by my son?”

Ian thought he did well as the assertive parent but Mr. Michaels directed the look he received from him to Yevgeny, who finally admitted: “Dad, I wrote faggot on the toilet door.”

“The F…!” Ian could barely hold back  
“Yev why!?!”

“Yevgeny, please wait outside, while I have a word with your father.”

And while Yev trotted out Ian felt the anger rising. All this drama about some scribbling at a door? God, did this principal even know what a usual door at the boy’s toilets at school looked like? And he wanted to yell at Mr. Michaels, but he was also highly irritated by the kind of word Yev had chosen for his first ever vandalism.

“Mr. Gallagher we don’t want to be intrusive, but given your family situation, are there any recent problems? Anything that could have caused this behavior?”

Ian began to sweat. But then he forced himself to think back at the light breeze outside and repeated to himself like a mantra that there was nothing he had to be ashamed of. He was out and proud since his teenage years and Svetlana had explained their family constellation towards the school. And an uncomfortable Mickey would have loved to kick some asses had they ever behaved biased. But obviously they were very open minded and all of a sudden it was her son, of all people who behaved like an idiot. The longer Ian thought about it the more bizarre this whole situation appeared to him. He collected his thoughts, took in a deep breath and looked the principal confidently in his eyes. 

“Mr. Michaels, I know that you were informed that I am living together with Yevgeny’s father. It has been like this since Yev was born. He doesn’t know anything else, well we are raising him together with his mother and we were always very open to him regarding , um, family constellations and what we mean to each other. He definitely didn’t hear the word at home, so maybe he was harassed at school? Did you ask him if the other kids made fun of him because of his two dads maybe?”

And now Ian did feel like an assertive parent and feeling very satisfied with himself he went on: “Why don’t you just give him the cleaning supplies and make him remove the scribbling?”

“Well, apart from the fact that this would indeed be an option, it is exactly the family background you mentioned, Mr. Gallagher that got me so startled. And I can assure you that we did talk to Yevgeny to find out if anything happened at school that led to this unpleasant situation. I would advice for Yevgeny to meet with the school psychologist.”

Ian immediately stiffened in his chair.

“Just for one appointment and just to make sure he wasn’t put under pressure by his friends or that there is anything he needs to talk about.”

Ian thought about it. And as much as he knew how furious Mickey would be right now and that he would fight with his life against a foreign guy telling him his son needs an appointment with the school psychologist, he also realized now that the principal seemed to have good intentions and he knew that it always helped him to talk to his psychiatrist. And maybe there was something brooding inside of Yev, what kind of parents would they be, not trying to help him?

“Okay. Yeah, why not. Can I take him home with me now?”

“Well, I’ll excuse him for the last period, I guess it’s more important you talk to him now. Thanks for coming by, Mr. Gallagher.”

“Good-bye.”

Ian left the principal’s office slightly confused. He absentmindedly touched Yevgeny’s shoulder to make him get up from his waiting chair down the hall and together they left.

Maybe times did change, Ian wondered. At least he couldn’t remember any principal giving a fuck about a scribbled “faggot” during his time at school.   
And while he reminisced about it, Ian felt a careful touch at his fingers. He had known better than to take Yevgeny’s hand while they had still been inside the school, creating a definitely embarrassing situation for an eight-year-old, but now on safe ground, reaching the parking lot, he was happy, that his son felt the need to be grounded by holding hands; again so much like his daddy. 

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“Hmm” Ian tried to grumble as strict as possible, while he instinctively didn’t want to do anything else than to kneel down to this precious tiny human being, take him in his arm and assure him, that everything would be good.

“Really, Dad” and Ian was met by ocean blue eyes.  
“I…I know it was stupid.”

And now Ian did stop, knelt down and asked his son: “Why did you do it then? I don’t get it, Yevgeny.”

“Dunno.” 

And when Ian witnessed Yevgeny’s eyes filling up with tears, he decided to finally reach out for a hug and make sure to get home as fast as possible. They could go into detail later, and it would probably be better to do it together with Mickey and Svet, anyway.  
Mickey and Svet! Standing up, Ian reached for his phone and saw that they had both tried to reach him. 

Trying to avoid longer discussions he sent them both the same message: All good, heading home. Let’s meet at our place.

******

“Shenja, dytyna, shcho stalosya?”

“I’m fine, mom” Yevgeny hardly managed to mumble out of Svetlana’s tight hug. 

“Ian?!” and there it goes, Ian couldn’t help thinking, realizing Mickey’s typical ‘are you okay?’ expression on his worried face, eyebrows lifted to the extreme.

“Yevy! Did you beat someone up?!” Katy shrieked, while she hopped excitedly on the sofa. 

“Whoa, can you please calm down a bit? All of you? Mands, do we have some coffee?” Ian already hated to see Mickey wiping over his face nervously, looking back and forth between him and his son, not sure whom he should comfort first and what had happened.  
You can do this, Ian; deep breaths in and out….

“Would you please fucking elaborate, what got me home early from work and losing a half day’s pay?”  
Okay, Mickey had obviously decided against comforting him…

“The school had called because Yevgeny scribbled something on a toilet door.”  
Silence.  
Then Mandy started laughing. “Sooo? I mean, besides being so dumb to got caught, huh?”

“Ne ty smiyesh nazyvaty moho syna durnym!”

“God, no one knows what the fuck you are saying!”

“Guys, please! I guess the problem was more the kind of word he used.” Ian tried to explain while he felt some headache approaching. “It was the F-word…” and before he could go on, Svetlana clapped her hands over her head and mumbled something incomprehensible in Ukrainian, Mandy and Katy started to giggle and Mickey stood in front of his son who wished already for a second time that day for the magic earth hole to open.   
“The F…!”

“No, Mick, the F-word ending with ‘got’ “  
And all of a sudden it was silent again. Well, at least until Katy asked “Mom, why is Yevy talking about god?” and Mandy rushed to exclaim they’d be upstairs now.

The remaining Milkoviches sat down at their kitchen table and Yevgeny made sure to keep as much space between his chair and any of his parents as possible. Yes, he had bragged towards Tyler about having so many people caring about him, but right now he would have been more than just happy to have only one parent to scold him. It wasn’t fair he’d get three times the hassle.  
Ian couldn’t really read Svetlana’s and Mickey’s faces, who seemed to be angry but also confused, probably wondering just as he did, what all the fuss was about. So Ian started to explain:  
“The principal was worried there might be something that’s troubling Yev and that he didn’t really know a better way to express it” which only earned him a contemptuous snort from both of them and he dreaded what to say next:  
“Given our family situation and the word he used, Mr. Michaels decided that Yev should take one single session with the school psychologist to sort things out.”

“No fucking way!”

Ian nearly hadn’t finished his sentences when they were all startled by the clatter of Mickey's chair, which fell over when he had suddenly jumped up angrily.

“Our son is definitely not going to see a fucking shrink!   
And you! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” but before he could lose it completely Svetlana held Mickey back, gripping his arm, probably fully aware that she was hurting him. Ian was still too hurt by the way Mickey had spit out ‘fucking shrink’ to react to him fuming over their son who was now full on crying. 

“First that goddamn picture and now this! Faggot, huh?! You like that word? You like calling someone a faggot? You like calling US faggots!?!!”

“Mikhailo!”

“Fuck!” Mickey fiercely hit his fist on the kitchen table, which made them all startle again. Svetlana had drawn Yevgeny towards her, holding her arm protectively around his shoulders. She was so mad at Mickey but before she could say anything he went on, now intently staring on the table, his voice slightly shaking:  
“We didn’t overcome all the shit we’ve been through, for our own son to act up.” And while Yevgeny prepared himself for the next round, Ian witnessed how hard it was for Mickey to hold himself together and how he tried to prevent his own tears to fall. When Mickey opened his mouth, Yevgeny and Svetlana stiffened and were surprised by his shaking voice:  
“Yevgeny, ‘faggot’ is a very hurtful swearword and I…we…won’t accept it in this house, or being thrown towards anybody from you outside these walls. Got it?”  
Mickey really would have loved for any of the other two taking over, but they just stared at him like startled dear looking into dazzling headlights.

“I’m sorry Papa. I didn’t want to hurt anybody and especially not you, or Ian, or mama” whispered since he was sure it would get him into even more trouble if he wouldn’t answer. He sniffled on: “I…I dunno, it just …happened?” and since no one was yelling, Yevgeny found the courage to go on:”I like how we are a family. I’m just…sometimes I’m scared what the other kids in my class think and…” 

“Who gives a shit about everybody else? Those little punks know nothing!” and Mickey kneeled down next to his son and took his hand while Svetlana and Ian exchanged a relieved look over the table. Yeah, he was back and probably stronger than before.  
“Yevgeny, there is nothing in this house and inside our family you will ever have to be scared of. We take care of each other. This here?” and he got up now, gesturing between them, walking over to Ian, giving him a quick, reassuring squeeze on his shoulder and coming back, facing Svetlana and then his son again: “This is fucking family! And I don’t give a shit if you say “fuck” ten thousand times but not, never ever again ‘faggot’. Hear me, son?!”  
Mickey started to shiver. All this elaborating was exhausting and therefore he wasn’t able to see how the other three already smiled again and he jumped a bit, when he felt Ian carefully touching his shoulder.   
“That other shit Yev, especially the stupid getting caught part, we’re gonna talk about later, though. If any of these ladies might decide to help me out on that damn parenting for once, huh?”   
Maybe Ian should have been offended but he was too occupied with being proud of Mickey. Nevertheless he couldn’t avoid one topic slipping out of his mouth:  
“Regarding the school psychologist…”

“Papa, I really don’t care. Guess I should just go there and get it over with, no?”

Mickey started pacing, Ian’s puppy look and Svetlana’s raised eyebrow definitely not being of any help. Fuck them. He squeezed the bridge over his nose and mumbled, “whatever” before he rushed to get to the fridge to finally get the beer he had been longing for since the whole ridiculous incident. 

“Ian, can Yevgeny stay here tonight?” Svetlana asked, practically shoving a surprised looking boy into his daddy’s arms. Actually it was her night, but there would never be any night on this planet when Ian wouldn’t be more than happy to have their son staying over. 

“Sure. Always. C’mon” and Ian kissed Svetlana good-bye on her forehead before he headed upstairs with Yevgeny.

“Mick. I need talking to you. Tomorrow. Alone.”

“Huh? The fuck Svetlana, first you and Gallagher let me do all the damn talking and then what?”

“10 o’clock Mickhailo. It’s important” and while she was already opening the door he was sure he heard a small “please”.   
Shaking his head Mickey wondered what it was with all the damn talking these days. It was more exhausting than a real fight and there was only one thing, well one man who could ease his exhaustion. But he wasn’t too sure if that was such a good idea with Yevgeny sleeping next door. Instead he went outside and sat down on the porch steps to have a smoke.   
After one cigarette had led to another he finally went inside, only to find Ian and Yevgeny cuddled all up in their bed, stupidly grinning at him, yeah, definitely a habit he picked up from Gallagher, Mickey thought and couldn’t help smiling too.   
“Slip over, you two. Wanna read something? What? What ya looking at Ian, huh?” And he first kissed his son gently on his forehead and then gave Ian a small kiss on his lips.   
“Well, daddy said you once fooled a priest and aunt Mandy…”

“Geez, Gallagher, you seriously think that’s an appropriate bedtime story for an 8 yo?”

“I’ll be nine, soon.”

“Yeah, in 9 months” and somehow he nevertheless started to tell about them crazy times way back then and the next morning none of them remembered who ended up falling asleep first. 

 

Shenja, dytyna, shcho stalosya? = Євген, дитина, що сталося? = Shenja (nickname for Yevgeny), baby, what happened?

Ne ty smiyesh nazyvaty moho syna durnym!” = Не ти смієш називати мого сина дурним! = Don’t you dare calling my son dump

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my dear friend Jade. If you found some really cute, romantic sentences, she is to blame ;o) Love all your suggestions! And why not be a bit romantic, the angst will find them again anyway. 
> 
> And again THANK YOU ALL for giving kudos, commenting and caring to read this at all. It means a lot to me!


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